One More Final
by Daiyon no Kabe
Summary: It's died and ended, been reborn, reprinted, repackaged, rebuilt, raised and other words that start with R. Now, Eva gets remixed. We may not be able to gain anything from telling this once more, but it's not like that's stopped anyone before.
1. Araremashite, Hajimemashite

**Episode 1**

**

* * *

**

**Side A: Araremashite, Hajimemashite**

* * *

It was supposed to be a routine harmonics test. The prototype had been recently repaired and upgraded. It was built to be a workhorse, to compliment the test type's offensive design specifications. It was supposed to be docile, quiet, like its pilot.

The exact opposite of that was occurring. It was currently trying to violently crush the pilot inside of itself. The roaring probably wasn't good either. Unit 00 was always...temperamental.

"We're not going to get anywhere if you don't open up, you know," the female pilot says, scratching at her short blue hair in consternation.

Punching. New body gives new strength.

"Violence is never the answer."

Rage. Hatred. Betrayal.

"I guess this time will have to be an exception."

Kill. Kill the one who wears her face, that stole him again.

"Commander, I'm going in."

Intruder. Like lamb to the slaughter.

"Oh how right you are," the girl says as she loses her self. There is a mass of anger, formless screaming female faces and grasping limbs. A squadron of hands clutch every part of her, massing around her neck. It absorbs the girl into itself; it has won. It will take bloody satisfaction. It will-

There's a bright flash, brighter than the sun, brighter than anything you've ever seen before. The rogue machine shrieks in pain and horror; its very being torn asunder. Once the light subsides, the previously orange paint job has become a calming blue. The being rams its head into a wall, trying to force the taker of its essence out. It is a vain effort, it thinks with its last sense of self. The power runs dry and it slumps over, defeated.

"Pilot status?"

"Fine and dandy," a soft voice says with careful meter. Internal displays show no sign of life, either within the cockpit or within the beast. "Oh, I seem to have dissolved my sense of self again. One moment please." A solitary voice sings out in soprano, from everywhere and nowhere. With a crack like thunder and a wet, sucking noise a strange sort of girl appears within the control room.

"You know sending false positives like that gives the system hell, First," a bottle blonde bathing suited biologist grouses. Damn showoff abominations of God and nature.

"Oh, really," the First says, looking back at her with blood-red eyes. "I wasn't aware." She turns to salute an older gentleman; full of beard and grim of demeanor. He gives her a brisk nod and she falls into a more relaxed pose.

"Is the matter settled?"

"I believe so," the girl says with a weak smile. "She knows her proper place on the pecking order."

The man steps towards her, glasses glinting. He is a monolith to her; great and imposing. A hand reaches out to her; if she were normal she would flinch. But she's not, so she doesn't. Quite the opposite in fact, as she steps underneath to let him muss her hair.

"Atta girl, Rei."

* * *

~!

* * *

"This is absurd! You're entrusting two of our destroyers to a little girl?" a grizzled older gentleman laments. He has been a proud Captain for years, entrusted with the safekeeping of the United Nations coalition navy fleet. His was the mightiest thing upon the sea, and some toeheaded brat wanted to use them for explosives?

"That little girl is one of the saviors of humanity," a young female voice shoots over the radio. "A savior that at least remembers to turn off the radio channels when she badmouths people, schissekoph." The captain grinds his teeth a little at her impudence.

"Now, now, it's not nice to taunt your guests," a roguish looking fellow says over the captain's shoulder. The girlish squeal could blow sensitive equipment out.

"But Kaaaaaji, these old fuddy-duddies started it," the girl whines, fiddling with the butterfly controls in her cockpit. "You think they'd know that antiquated arms are no match for a giant robot's strength."

"You need them as much as they need you," he says, chuckling. "The Evas aren't very good swimmers."

"Don't say stuff like that," she cries, "You'll jinx it!"

"Sir, radar's picking up something huge, six o' clock!" The sentence is barely out of his mouth before the ship shakes under the massive disturbance. A great, sharklike fin bobs up and down, slicing through water like it was air. Shots fly towards the target, strike inches above the fin. They seem to literally hit air, as if there was an invisible wall.

"The hell is going on?" the captain roars, slamming his hand on the control panel. "All ships, prepare for another barrage!"

"Are you guys retarded or something?" the girl asks mockingly, adjusting her fashionable red hair clips. The connection had to be perfect or else she wouldn't be able to play as hard. "That's not going to work on an Angel."

Before the flagship can catch its bearings, another shock rocks it. This one isn't from below, but from above; a glorious red warrior awakens from its slumber. Protective tarp wrapped around it like a traveler's cloak, it stands with its hands on its hips.

"Hey Kaji," the girl says, absentmindedly twirling a Progressive Knife in the machine's right hand. "If I kill this thing in under a minute, you're buying me swimsuits. Slutty ones."

Kaji chokes a little, covers it with a cough. "Sure thing baby doll."

"You know I don't like you calling me that," she pouts, the rising target tracked in her peripheral vision.

"Right, right," he says, slipping out unnoticed behind the on-edge command crews. "Well, I have business to attend to, so knock 'em dead Asuka."

"It's showtime," she sings. She's grinning from ear to ear now; a long gash has already been torn across the underbelly of the marine beast. The blood rains on her from overhead, a little disgusting, but pretty cool. The monster flops into the water with a screech, rolls underneath the ship for easier targets. Asuka follows in hot pursuit, skipping from ship to ship like the world's most badass game of hopscotch. She leaps when it leaps, catches it on the fin and mounts it like a pony. A pony who's mouth is being forced open by a red-armored mecha.

"Dear lord, it's coming right for us!" a senior technician shouts, beside himself with terror. His subordinate merely shrugs; he had heard of the Second Child's antics beforehand. Thank god for lifeboats.

"Alright boys, prove me wrong!" Asuka shouts with childlike glee. "All cannons aim straight for the shiny thing in its mouth!" As it flies towards the waiting barrels of the military-industrial complex, the beast suddenly realizes that it should have listened to its mother. "Let's pop that cherry."

The terror from the deep is riddled with cannon fire, torn apart in big, bloody chunks. It crashes onto the deck, taken from its element and swimming in a sea of crimson. It gasps and thrashes for agonizing moments, the healing process not going nearly fast enough for its tastes. The object of its desire is so close, so tantalizingly close. He could be complete, he could win right here and now.

"Oh man, you're still alive?" Asuka asks, looking over the battered body. "Well, at least I get to try this out." She sends her mecha into the air, curling it into a ball. At the apex of its jump, it makes one last rotation before falling to the earth like a red comet, foot outstretched.

The beast realized it could have won, but that moment has passed. It does not know the term "boned", but that seems to fit its state right now.

"Super! Inazuma! KICK!"

The red-armored mecha crashes through tie core of the fallen Angel, turning it into powder. The kick tears through the hull of the ship, burning a gaping hole from top to bottom. It gets pushed back from the impact, and the massive underwater explosion doesn't help matters. The blast sends the mecha skywards, makes it crash into one of the designated dummy ships.

"36 seconds," Asuka says, pointing at a helicopter with her mecha's hand. "I won't let you forget."

* * *

~!

* * *

He had never seen so many [REDACTED]s in his life. The most recent letter his parents had sent him had more black bars than a censored sex tape, but the message came through loud and clear.

They needed him.

They had sent him away years ago, for his own safety, they said. The laboratory wasn't a proper place to raise a child, they said. They wanted only the best for him, only wanted him to have a normal life. Unfortunately, the words "normal" and "only child of Yui and Gendo Ikari," go together like oil and water.

He never got a moment's peace in Mabase, between children thinking he was a giant robot pilot and the intermittent whirring of the giant iron in the middle of town. His self-effacing demeanor and distressingly girly appearance engendered a great protective instinct in the womenfolk; his friends half-jokingly said he'd make a better girl, he was so moe.

The fact that he looked really good in a dress didn't help matters.

That didn't matter anymore, because he was needed. It was his turn to protect something, to fight instead of be fought over. He had his chance to prove he wasn't a buttmonkey. More importantly, Shinji Ikari had a chance to see his father again. The thought of their tearful reconciliation buzzed through his head, the forefront of a maelstrom of boyish enthusiasm. Would there actually be a giant robot? Would those sleepless hours sunk into Burning EVA cabinets pay off? Was the girl on the postcard really that easy?

That last one really stuck with him, especially with the only uncensored word on his father's letter being "COME". Oh he came, alright, he thinks guiltily. He shifted in his seat, dirty thoughts were no good. It didn't stop him from making dirty jokes, or exploiting his non-aggressive demeanor for maximum perversion, but the concept was there. He could see himself tearing up around the girl on the postcard, angling for sympathy, and getting a faceful of marshmallow glory.

There was a solid example of the promised land getting on the train right now; all hips and lips and bursting with flavor. Now was the time for a little warmup. He waits for the right time, for the girl to pass by. He drops his cell phone, bends over with a nervous giggle, and looks up into paydirt. The sight is almost too much to bear, he didn't notice her stockings created a near perfect Absolute Territory.

"B-bell peppers?" he stammers.

"Nice, aren't they?" the girl says, catching him in the act. He flips out, and scuttles out from under her. Blue-green eyes look down from red half-rimmed glasses.

"I-I didn't mean to," Shinji swears, lying through his teeth. "Honest!"

"It's okay," the girl says, holding out an upturned palm. "If you give me 1000 yen."

"1000 yen? That's extortion! That's insane! That's-"

"The standard fare for seeing my panties," she says, plopping down in Shinji's seat. "Be glad I remembered to wear underwear today, or it would've been 100000." She sniffs the air tentatively, gives him an odd look which Shinji returns.

"Did you just sniff me?"

"Yeah," the girl says with a shrug. "You smell important. Like some sort of hero or something." She grins. "You headin' to NERV?"

"No," he lies, "I don't even know what that is."

The girl gets out of his seat and stretches out. "Aw, too bad. I like NERV puppies." She gives him a sideways glance. "Hopefully the next time I see you isn't at the end of the world, nya?" With that, she walks away into the women-only car; leaving our intrepid hero confused and a little aroused.

"...The fuck was that?"

* * *

~!

* * *

The wonderful thing about being in a bunker built underneath the earth, tasked to defend humanity from unknown and unknowable enemies is that the vending machines are always well stocked. When there's a good chance that the next world-ending Kaiju will keep the personnel trapped like incredibly angsty rats, one better have enough canned coffee and processed snack treats to take the edge off of an entire staff's meaningless existences. Nothing calms the nerves after playing God like a nice, safe, prepackaged snack treat. Just ask head of Project E, Ritsuko Akagi; currently downing a bottle of Oolong tea like it contained the antidote. Or very strong spirits.

"Seriously, Ritzy, what the fuck just happened there?" Misato asks, sipping from her hip flask.

"You say that like it has a scientific explanation," she responds, placing the cool bottle against her forehead. For a genius-level intellect, she was staring down more and more things that just did not make sense. How was the First able to speak without vocal cords, for example?

"So we've found something even Doctor Poindexter can't figure out?" Misato says with a coy smile.

"Yes, the biologist has no idea how a human being can seemingly violate the concept of relativity," Ritsuko responds icily. "I know it isn't as mentally taxing as remembering what parts of a bikini cover which parts of the body, but us simple people have our simple dillemas."

"That was one time!" Misato grumbles, deflating slightly. Ritsuko gives her a pointed look. "...I was drunk."

The bottle-blond massages her shoulder, lets some of the tension out. "When aren't you drunk? You know you have to pick up the Third today, right? With a car?"

"I totally drive better after a few drinks and you know it."

Ritsuko leafs through the folder under her arm. "10 counts of Driving Under the Influence, 6 counts of Disturbing the Peace," she gives Misato a knowing look, making the Major shrink a little. "3 counts of Public Indecency, 2 counts of Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter, one count of actual Vehicular Manslaughter."

"That girl was an Angel!" Misato blurts, thrusting an accusatory finger.

"You try telling her family that," she sighs, as she searches for the Third's dossier. "Although thanks to a little 'persuasion' from Section Two, they ever so graciously looked the other way." She spends a moment looking at a picture of a mousy girl with glasses; a Megumi or Mayumi or something. "They even donated her body to science." She flips past the file, "Such nice people."

Misato groans, flinging her hands up in a dismissive manner. "That's the thing! It's not like we don't have the town under our thumb, so I don't see how the laws apply to me." She puts on an impish face, cocks her hips. "I'm leading the charge against monsters that want to kill us, so if I hit a few things...or people, it's okay as long as we win!"

Ritsuko's already halfway out the door. "Just pick up the Commander's little bastard." She gives her one last look, like a mother who knows her daughter's going to shoot her eye out with a BB gun no matter what she says. "Try not to kill anyone this time."

* * *

**Side B: And Now For Something Completely Different**

**

* * *

**

That strange girl with the bell pepper panties didn't show up again, much to Shinji's delight and mild disappointment. Normally those kinds of girls ask for money for certain services, not simple fanservice. She was cute though, not as good as the girl on the postcard, but certainly better than some he could name. Like his former tormentor; all bluster and fury and red-hot embarrassment. She was the reason he knew he didn't look all that bad in a dress, she was the reason that even people who liked him called him stupid, she was…getting off the train right across from him. He whips about in a panic, looking for a place to hide, hoping that she didn't see him.

"Stupid Shinji!"

Well bollocks to that plan. He plays cool, pretends he didn't hear anything.

"Hey, look at me!" the red devil pouts. "I know you can hear me!"

In response, Shinji begins to pick up the pace, hoping to make it into the crowd of people before that girl can catch up. His panic turns the walk into a jog into a mad dash to the outside world, to freedom. He sees the light at the end of the tunnel, is almost into the tunnel itself. Just a little further, just a little-

"Too slow." He can hear the smugness; picture the dirty little smile in his mind's eye. He sees the ground rush at him rapidly, curls into a ball to soften the impact. He's done this song and dance before, knows the steps by heart. The girl pitches forward, yellow and white flashing at the periphery of his vision. She catches herself with a single hand and wheels into a three point stance; copper bangs obscuring everything on her face but a vicious grin. Shinji scrambles to his feet, but is half a step too slow; the girl jumps him, wraps a wiry arm around his head and noogies him with her free arm.

"Aw man, cut it out Asuka," the very much trapped Third groans, flinching at the friction.

"Is that any way to greet a friend you haven't seen for two years?" she says, squeezing him tighter. "You'd think someone as hard up as you would be more appreciative of some German confection in their lives."

"I would, if you didn't assault me every time!" Shinji fires back as he slips his head out of the girl's grasp.

"Oh ho, that's a new escape," Asuka says, mildly impressed. "Maybe you're not as stupid as you look." Shinji's already gone at this point, having slipped into the crowd. Asuka tsks, and then follows in hot pursuit. The kid's already gotten a good head start on her, that plus the crowd density makes it hard to track him. Well, it would, if he weren't so damned polite. She follows the trail of displaced, conciliatory people like breadcrumbs; the hunter smelling blood. He's sitting on a bench, the movement of his shoulders shows he's breathing heavily. Poor bastard thought he could win. She sneaks up on him, footsteps made with catlike tread. The distance closed between them, she leaps like a tiger taking a hare. He came close, but nobody beats the Great Asuka Sohryu…

"You're not nearly as stealthy as you think you are," Shinji says; bending back, watching the surprised Sohryu sail overhead. Normally, this would be embarrassing enough for the Second Child; outsmarted by an obviously inferior person. Normally, she would hit the ground, skin her knee, and flash her panties; a textbook case of "insult to injury". Normally, Misato Katsuragi would park on the curb, instead of hopping it.

But this is Eva, nothing ends up normal.

If she was more privy to the workings of her own series, Asuka would muse on that as she pancakes into the Renault Alpine's windshield. Since she's not, all she can think about is how much getting hit by a car hurts.

Sometimes, the phrase is better rendered as "injury to insult".

"Jesus Christ!" Misato yells, stopping the car and checking for damages. "When did deer start taking trains?"

Shinji takes a quick glance downwards to the postcard in his hand, then looks back to boggle vacantly at the current shenanigans. "That wasn't a deer," he says with consternation, "That was my friend."

"What was your friend doing in the middle of the street?"

"I think the better question is what are you doing in the middle of the sidewalk?"

Misato looks around, notices the gathering crowd of onlookers. She probably couldn't say this one was an Angel, it would be too suspicious. So she flashes her stationary, complete with the classic NERV logo. The onlookers disperse, expecting nothing less from their insane saviors.

"Hey, you're not going to call the cops or anything, right?" Misato asks, cozying up to Shinji. She leans over just enough to put her prodigious melons at eye level; if it works for the Tokyo-3 police, it should work for a teenage boy.

"N-n-no," he stammers, fighting back the urge to partake of the low hanging fruit. He fumbles with his postcard before holding it up to Misato; turning away from it as if it was a blast shield. "Are you Misato Katsuragi?"

"No, I'm Makoto Kusanagi," she says flatly, before giggling at her own joke. "Yeah, I'm her. Guessing you're the Third Child?"

"Him? The Third?" Asuka says weakly, the initial shock of getting hit by a car replaced by the shock of Shinji getting to be important for anything.

"Did you hear something?" Misato asks. Shinji shakes his head no. She shrugs. "Must've been the wind." She points to the car, "Get in, I wanna get back before Ritzy hears any crazy rumors about me running over somebody."

"But you did run over somebody," Shinji says tentatively. Misato gives him a cheery smile and points her holdout pistol at him. "I didn't see anything if you didn't see anything," he corrects himself, rigid. Misato puts the gun away and gets in the car, Shinji follows suit. Before he can close the door, Asuka drags herself inside; her yellow sundress torn and smudged. She glares at him, to which Shinji shrugs.

"She has a gun," he says matter of factly.

"I'll give you this one, Stupid Shinji," Asuka says, cradling one arm. "But only because you got help from Katsuragi."

"Oh, hey Asuka," Misato says breezily, looking into the backseat. "When did you get here, and why are you so dirty looking?"

"Hello to you too, you drunken harlot," she says with a wincing grin.

"Still the same ever-bleeding bitch, eh?" Misato retorts with a catlike smile. "Kaji must've worked you out good if you can take getting totally not hit by a car and keep on ticking."

"You would know about taking on more than any modest woman should, Katsuragi," Asuka replies, falling back in her seat.

"Well I had to do something," she responds, starting up the car. "It's not like Kaji is known for his stamina. Or his technique."

"My Kaji is a goddamned sex machine and you know it!" Asuka blurts, blushing hotly.

"He's also a pedophile, given your glowing recommendation of him."

Asuka blushes harder, shakes her head vigorously in the negative. "I-it's not like that!" She pushes her pointer fingers together and puckers her lips. "Although I do wish he'd go pedo for me," she murmurs, eyes casted downwards.

"I assume you two know each other," Shinji says, taken aback by the rapid-fire quippery.

"Are you retarded or something?" Asuka says, shooting him a dirty look. "She's the operations director of NERV, of course I know her. I'm an Eva pilot, dumbass, she worked me through basic training."

"So that's what you meant when you said 'I'm off to train'," he says, enlightened.

"What did you think I meant?"

"It was that time of the month," Shinji says with a shrug, "Or you were a chronic masturbator or something." That earns him a smack on the head.

"Asshole, don't confuse me with you and your dirty, dirty ways!" Asuka roars, blushing a little.

"Hey, it's a natural thing for young people to do," Misato says nonchalantly, the Alpine rhythmically swerving. "Relieves stress, unwanted tension. Had to teach the First how to do it, which was a challenge." She takes a turn like it's the Indy 500 and seemingly cuts off a guy just for living. "It took an hour to convince her she didn't just die." She suddenly becomes pensive. "Although I don't think LCL is supposed to come out normally." Her meditation is cut short by the sounds of gunfire and the roar of jet engines.

Shinji flinches, curls into himself like a turtle. "What the hell was that?"

Asuka presses herself against the window like an eager puppy. "It's showtime, that's what!"

Misato sighs, and then puts the pedal through the metal. "Ritzy's gonna be pissed, isn't she?"

* * *

~!

* * *

She was late.

She was late with the Third Child.

She was late, and it was ruining his current scenario.

Gendo Ikari rubs the back of his neck, taps his foot impatiently. Katsuragi was supposed to be here by now with the Second and Third; everything was set to the second that the Third Angel, the firstborn scion of mankind's enemy's arrival. They were supposed to arrive with just enough time to convince the boy to pilot the Eva, cut away everything he had known and force him onto death ground. Not to toy with his emotions or anything, he wasn't that petty. It was merely to ensure that he wouldn't vacillate, had the moral fiber to endure the hardship of Eva.

He had contingencies, he always did. The Second was impetuous and eager to prove herself; if anything were to happen to Rei in Unit 00's testing, she would make a suitable enough backup given the Third's rejection. Unfortunately, she also wasn't present. Fortunately, nothing untoward happened to Rei. If it came right down to it, Rei would be willing to give her life for the mission. Several lives, in fact.

"Rei, you will be sortieing in Unit 01," he says, adjusting his glasses.

"Wasn't that the Third's job?" Rei asks, tilting her head.

"It would be, but some of our members aren't as," Gendo pauses, "...Punctual as they should be."

"Ah. Did you not compensate for Major Katsuragi's tardiness in your scenario?"

Gendo coughs, face falling. "Of course I did." He puts a hand on Rei's shoulder. "You were my original choice, anyway."

"You're just saying that to ensure my loyalty," Rei says demurely, the hint of a blush playing stronger on her stark white skin.

"I do have that, don't I?" he says, more of a command than a request. Rei nods briskly, clicks her heels together. "Good. Do me proud."

She takes Gendo's hand in hers, stares up at him with the determination of one who is crazy to die. "I will not fail you." She brings her head to his hand, nuzzles it with her cheek, and turns away; walking briskly up to the entry plug.

Gendo looks downward, gives himself time for a knowing smile, then returns to the imperious mask that is NERV's Supreme Commander.

"Akagi, switch the cores from L01 to L00. Upload the combat data Rei logged in simulation." His glasses glint solid white. "If we cannot rely on my son, then we shall have faith in my daughter."

* * *

~!

* * *

Rei reclines in the seat of the Entry Plug, shifts a little to get a comfortable position. She never quite got used to the fit of her Plug Suit; it was made when she was younger and she was a growing girl. Dr. Akagi dispenses with the formalities of start up; she knows that Rei knows the drill by now. Instead, Rei goes through the startup sequence herself. LCL floods the cockpit, immerses her. The first thing she notices is the smell. She always liked that smell. It reminded her of home.

"Final startup threshold passed, all green. Plug depth holding steady, Synchronization at 55%. A-10 connections stable, syncrograph green." Maya Ibuki looks up to her sempai, nods affirmative. It was nice to have something go right for a change.

"Alright First, everything's checking out," Ritsuko says flatly, "You feel okay in there?"

"Yes. Thank you for your concern," Rei responds, out-unaffecting the doctor.

"Secondary visuals working alright?"

Rei flips a switch which puts a scene from outside picture in picture. It's a mess, so many men and women throwing their lives away. The Angel almost looks...confused. It doesn't seem angry, the birdlike bone mask that serves at its face looks at the world on an angle. Much like she does. Maybe it just wants to experience the world as well.

No matter; it is an enemy of humanity. As such, it must be dealt with accordingly.

"Yes. I see it," she says, gripping the butterfly controls tightly. "Eva 01, launching."

The Gs hit her like a truck, compresses her in ways she's felt a hundred times before. Without even thinking, almost as soon as the Eva surfaces, she grabs an Assault Rifle from one of the dummy buildings. With no wasted motion she rushes forward; dropping distracting fire in tight bursts. Center the target and pull the trigger, simple as that. It bounces harmlessly off of the Angel's AT-Field, as to be expected. Almost as if to say "is that all?" the Angel causes a group of tanks to spontaneously explode.

Hopefully there'd be one that fell to small arms, she thought, using the curtain of the JSSDF's barrage as cover. She narrowly dodges an errant VTOL knocked her way by the Angel's slap. It's still distracted by the haze of bullets hitting it from all sides, so it's a simple matter to slip in and begin AT-Field neutralization. As far as she could tell, point blank range was too close for it to cause explosions.

That catches its attention, a second light shining out in opposition to it. It raises up a hand towards Unit 01 and launches blazing purple death in its general direction. Rei parries it with her rifle and flows into another burst, this time at the target's core. The bullets score the smooth red sphere, but none find true purchase. It does find Unit 01 a backhand to the face, however. She stumbles back, centers herself and continues firing. Another impact lance cuts through the rifle, sends Rei backpedaling to regain space. She launches a Progressive Knife and throws it; as an attack it's nothing special, but as a feint it's top notch.

It allows her to get back into position, AT-Field at full neutralization. She wraps Unit 01's arms under Sachiel's, digs its fingers into the Angel's ribs. She pulls them apart with a satisfying pop, ragged breathing the only tell of her excitement.

"Commander Ikari-kun, does the JSSDF have jurisdiction to use an N2 Mine?" Rei asks, half-lidded eyes glinting.

"Of course we do!" a member of the top brass bellows from inside NERV headquarters. "What do you take us for?"

"Drop one," she says, deadpan. "Aim for the core, it's the glowing red thing in its chest."

The military men look back at Ikari, at that smug face. "Are you going to do anything to save your pet pilot?"

"She knows what she's getting into," Gendo says, completely unfazed. "Do what you will."

"Of course," another of the military council says, gulping. Did he not care about the safety of his soldiers? "Launch codes approved. Do it." VTOLs move into position, centering their sights on the bound together titans. Some thanked the strange pilot, all of them thought she was crazy at best. With a mental shrug, the bombers let loose; 5 N2 mines fly straight for the beast's heart.

As the N2 mines scream towards her, Rei Ayanami wonders if being vaporized itches. She assumes it does for some reason. She also hopes that, if not reduced to atoms, she gets to wear an eyepatch this time. Her last thought, before the blast envelops her, is that this would probably look really cool on the viewscreens in Central Dogma.

* * *

~!

* * *

The explosion could be seen through her eyelids. This made it a good plan B. It also knocked her car off the road and sent it tumbling like clothes in the dryer. That made it not such a good plan B.

"Oh man, I still have 12 payments on this thing!" Misato groans, plopping unceremoniously out of the side window. The groans in higher pitches than her own remind her of more important matters.

"Hey Shinji?" Asuka asks, shaking off the cobwebs.

"Yeah?"

She looks down. "How much do you value your right hand?"

"Why do you ask?" Shinji says, following her eyes. To her chest. Which he is clutching onto like a newborn. He pulls his hand off like it's on fire, the horrified recoil sending him out the back window.

Asuka crawls out after him with a smirk. "Thanks for clearing a path," she snerks, "Although I always took you for a 'bigger is better' sort of pervert."

Shinji gives her a nervous chuckle, "Well I heard that anything more than a handful is too much." She gives him a playful smack on the head.

"You saying I'm flat," Asuka chides, standing up stiffly. "Or are you saying I'm too much to handle?"

"I will not answer that question on the grounds that your foot is dangerously close to my testicles," Shinji responds, lifting himself to his feet.

"You two," Misato says, pointing at the Children, "Make yourselves useful." She thumbs to her side of the overturned car. "Get over here."

"You hit me with a car and you want me to do menial labor for you?" Asuka says with incredulity.

"It's either that or you walk to NERV headquarters," Misato says, brushing her off.

Asuka mutters darkly, but ultimately complies. Shinji follows suit, not wanting to get a gun pointed at him again. The trio get the car flipped over without incident and pile back in. Misato slides the key into the ignition, butters up the engine with sweet words and a few empty threats. It turns over with a throaty roar, miraculously workable. With a howl of triumph, Misato floors it, having learned nothing from her near-death experience. The car lurches forwards, fishtailing just enough to jostle the two in the back seat.

"Screw the Angels, this woman is trying to kill me," Asuka mutters, gripping the seat. In response, Misato feathers the throttle and drifts through another turn, swinging the tail out hard enough to make Asuka's head dangle out the window. If it weren't for the seatbelt she was wearing, there's a good chance she would fall out. Misato snaps the tail end back, whipping her back into the relative safety of the car's interior,

"Isn't this a nice, fun drive guys?" Misato says sing-song. Shinji's praying to various deities, while Asuka balls her fists so hard her nails draw blood. She looks back, which makes the car swerve even more. "So, any questions you want to ask me?"

"Are you going to answer them, or just say it's classified," Shinji asks, finishing up a prayer to Haruhi.

"I'm here to enlighten you," Misato responds.

"Did I die and is this hell?" Asuka says in a wavering voice.

"Nope!" Misato says cheerily.

"What were those things up there?" Shinji asks, no longer afraid of what he saw before. It looked like being in a giant robot would be a lot safer than spending one more minute with this crazy broad.

"The black one was an Angel, and the purple one was an Eva," Misato says. "The Eva you get to pilot in fact, Shinji." Shinji and Asuka blanch for totally different reasons.

"Oh god, am I going to get nuked?" Shinji moans, looking back towards the blast zone.

"I thought Unit 01 was supposed to be my interim unit until Unit 02 got reoutfitted!" Asuka pouts. "You're giving it to this loser? The only training he's had is onanistic."

"Who gave you that idea?" Misato asks, not looking back.

"You did, Katsuragi," Asuka growls.

"Oh, did I?" she says with a hidden smile. "I don't recall." She looks back with a put off expression. "You don't have any questions about the Angels or anything?"

"Not really, no," Shinji says, still staring out what used to be a window. "It's just a designation, like STMC or Robeast or Steve or something." He sighs. "I know Father has a thing for difficult sounding references."

Misato sighs assent and nods her head. They travel in silence for a little while; the two Children have been quickly desensitized to Misato's aggressive driving.

"Oh, I do have one more question," Shinji says meekly.

"Hm?"

"What are your three sizes?" he asks with a cute smile.

"Now that," Misato snorts, "Is classified information."

* * *

~!

* * *

Evangelion Unit 01 had seen better days. Sure, even with the cross-syncing, Ayanami was able to generate incredibly powerful AT-Fields. Still though, that just downgraded being in the blast radius of five N2 mines from "certain death," to "suicidal, but effective." Not to mention the part of the blast before you black out hurts like a right bastard. The pilot girl should know that by now.

LCL drains from the entry plug of the still sizzling Unit 01, an oozing orange wound in the great beast's neck. Rei Ayanami opens her eyes, the afterglow of the blast makes them sting. She flexes an arm, clenches a delicate fist.

"Still…alive?" she whispers as reality takes definition around her. The stern face of Ritsuko Akagi looks down on her and she pokes the fragile girl with a pen. Ayanami seizes, remembering the concept of pain very well now.

"Yes," she says, throwing up a shaky thumbs-up. "Still alive." Akagi helps her up to her feet, drapes an arm over her shoulder.

"Rei, just because you have reserves doesn't mean you can do things like this," Ritsuko says pointedly. "Are you trying to make me grey earlier?"

"But Doctor, I was given the gift of expendability," she says with a pained smile. "I should take advantage of it." Ritsuko sighs and jabs her in the ribs, sending a cute squeal of pain from the broken girl.

"There's a difference between taking advantage and being stupid," Ritsuko says, easing the girl down the stairs that led down to the docking bay. "And that was just stupid. Who asks to be hit with an N2 mine?"

"I did not expect the JSSDF to use five," she says through gritted teeth, barely able to keep her head up.

"You shouldn't have asked for any," Ritsuko snaps, plopping her down on a gurney. She dresses and wraps the burn wounds, covers the pulpy mass that should have been Rei's left eye. She broke her arm in the fall; it flops like a limp noodle. Ritsuko goes to get a splint, but is stopped by a grasping hand.

"Hello Rei," Gendo says impassively. "You did well."

"Really?" Rei says, standing on wobbly legs. She takes woozy steps towards the Supreme Commander, smiling sweetly. She gets into his personal space, almost head to chest. With one bright eye, she looks up and slaps Gendo across the face with her broken arm. It really, really hurt, but it was worth it to see the look on his face. The shock from the pain sends her stumbling backwards, she spits up a little blood on impact. He rushes towards her, but is stopped by Akagi.

"You're a louse, Gendo Ikari," Rei giggles before the pain overtakes her and she passes out.

* * *

~!

* * *

Central Dogma was normally where Gendo went to think and plan, to devise and divine his scenarios. It also was where he went to think and drink; the most recent actions of the First Child drove him to both.

"Well, that was unexpected," Fuyutsuki says, set in his position as Gendo's right hand man. "That girl is getting rather impetuous, isn't she?"

"It's probably my fault," Gendo says with a swollen cheek. "I should have kept more of an eye on the girl." He looks to his left, shoots a withering look at a lab-coated woman. "Or should I say, I should have kept more of an eye on the woman?"

The woman stuffs her hands into the coat's pockets, shakes the bottle brown hair out of her glowing pink eyes. A few strands sprout blue, a side effect of the Nephillem's rapid growth. She turns to Gendo and grins.

"Hey, she's my daughter as much as yours honey," the woman says. "In fact, she's moreso, given that your DNA had nothing to do with her creation."

"This is true," he responds, his hands steepled. "Although at this point in time, your physiology is more akin to sisters than mother and daughter." He takes off his sunglasses, looks upon the object of his desire. "Isn't that right, Yui?"

"Well yeah, but that's because you got rid of my original body. And you wouldn't let me stay in the Eva," she says, sticking her tongue out at him.

"I thought Unit 01 took you from me," he says, cradling his head in his hands, "To think you wanted to _stay_ there."

She wraps her arms around Gendo's shoulders, in a hug that's somewhere between mother and lover. "I always told you I saw the big picture better, but you never listened." She whispers in his ear, "Be thankful you didn't screw up the kids."

"We don't know that for sure," Fuyutsuki interjects. "The Second and Third haven't arrived yet, and from what we know, their profiles aren't the most reassuring."

"Oh ye of little faith, Professor," the Ayanami-esque Yui snips, rolling her eyes towards him. "If you look at any of our profiles, we should be locked up in a nuthouse. We're all mad here, but it takes the mad to make mad genius work."

"I hope you're right," Fuyutsuki says in resignation.

Yui leans over Gendo's shoulder; both of them give their former professor looks of firey determination.

"When were we ever wrong?"


	2. When the Sun Goes Down

**Episode 2**

* * *

**Side A: When The Sun Goes Down**

* * *

The car ride stayed uneventful, well, as uneventful as a car ride that started with vehicular assault and almost ended with lawyer-friendly nuclear weaponry could be. The combination of travel fatigue, getting hit by a car, and crashing on adrenaline put Asuka to sleep a while ago. She'd be pretty cute asleep, Shinji thought, if she didn't drool on him. It's hard to be perfect and proper when you've passed out with fright.

"Phew, looks like we didn't need to throw you to the lions after all," Misato says wistfully. She swings the car into a supermarket parking lot, pulling a bootlegger turn to park. The car screeches to a halt in a perfect parking position. Misato turns to her wards with a cheeky thumbs up, obviously pleased with herself.

"So, how'd you like my stunt driving?"

"Well, as far as I can tell, I'm not dead," Shinji says tentatively, "So I guess it's pretty good." He returns the thumbs up with a shaky smile.

"What about Asuka?"

"Hold on," he says, shaking the redhead awake. She groans and pushes him away; rises groggily.

"Aw Stupid Shinji, what now?" Asuka grumbles. "I was having the most wonderful dream where I died."

"Give it some time," Shinji whispers, "I'm pretty sure Misato will make that dream a reality soon enough." Asuka looks over her cheery tormentor, staring daggers to the back of her head.

"Come on kids, we're going shopping!" Misato says sing-song, rapping against the kids' side of the car. They pile out and Shinji offers Asuka a hand. She smacks it away, puffing her chest out and wincing with every step. Shinji keeps step with her, with Misato leading the way.

"You should let me give you a hand," Shinji whispers to her worriedly.

"When did you learn how to be chivalrous?" Asuka hisses through gritted teeth.

"The same time you learned to be admit you're scared of something," he says back.

She recoils. "What do you mean, scared of something? The Great Asuka Sohryu Langley fears nothing!"

Misato looks over her shoulder, smiles with her eyes. "Then you won't mind riding in the back when I really cut loose?" The previously proud face of the Great Asuka Sohryu Langley falls like fine china, and turns just as white.

"Goddammit," she spits, looking down and away from the scary Major Lady. Shinji stifles a chuckle at her expense, and swallows it down when she looks his way.

"Um, why are we here?" Shinji asks.

"Because we're going to party," Misato responds cheerily, grabbing a shopping cart "Gotta break in my new flatmates somehow."

"You mean?"

"Yep," Misato says, hands on her hips. "You two are under my care as of today." She beams. "Won't that be awesome?" Shinji nods perkily; he wasn't going to get any sort of peace, but at least things would be more interesting. And hey, low inhibitions, cute "innocent" kid, all sorts of fun things could happen.

"How cute, I can see your enthusiasm," Asuka taunts, hand over her mouth. She looks demurely down at Shinji and giggles. He turns beet red and covers up, hoping Misato didn't notice anything untoward.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"It's okay that you're happy Shinji," Misato says, tossing instant foodstuffs into her cart. "I mean, you get to live with two beautiful ladies. Not very many men get to say that."

"Nobody ever thinks of the ladies in that situation," Asuka says, nudging Shinji in the ribs. "Beautiful ladies should fight over a beautiful man, not a scrawny kid."

"It's not a fight, Asuka," Misato huffs, "Because if it was, it'd be over before it started."

"Yeah, because your over the hill ass would be on the floor," she says with a teasing expression. "I'd have Kaji do me in front of you, just to salt the earth too." Misato clenches a fist, almost crushes the carton of instant something or other in her hand. She recovers and pretends she didn't just hear that.

"You said I was pretty, Asuka!" Shinji cries.

"When you were in a dress and pumps, numbnuts," Asuka smirks. "I said you were a pretty girl, not a beautiful man. Clean out your ears."

Misato spins around and looks at the kids like they have three heads. "What do both of you mean by that?"

They both bow their heads with guilty expressions on their faces. "It's a long,"

"Sexually confusing,"

"And boring story," they say in unison.

"Oh, that means you're telling me every bit of it!" Misato declares, grabbing both of the kids' heads. "I don't care if I have to get you three sheets to the wind drunk for it, you're telling me this one." Patrons look at her oddly, and then continue about their business. Must work for NERV, they think, everyone there is a few cards short of a hanafuda deck.

* * *

~!

* * *

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results.

The standard operating procedure of NERV-Massachusetts was doing the same thing and getting different results. As the secondary construction site of the Evangelions, they had to make due with living off of other people's leavings. Project E's testbed technology was outsourced across both sides of the Pacific; Yui had her darling Unit 01, Kyoko had her grand Unit 02, and the Americans got their scraps. There were two proto Units sent to them, one of 00/01, the other the test bed for 02. They were meant to study the construction, poke and prod with sticks for the more important branches' profit. They were given the crazy ideas that really shouldn't work, but somehow did. They took the trash and turned it into treasure. The twin idols of this ideology were Evangelions Alpha and Beta; NERV-Mass's favorite mistakes.

Not that the pilots didn't rank high on the "favorite mistake" o-meter.

"You hear about what happened in Tokyo-3?" a fey looking girl with deep blue hair says to nobody in particular.

"Not really," a similarly fey pink haired girl responds, unfurling upside down from a ventilation shaft.

"Geez Grace, you need to start paying attention to stuff outside of the Evas," the blue haired one says, pulling her hair into a high ponytail.

"But I do pay attention," Grace, the pink haired one pouts, a saberlike strand of hair twitching atop her head. "It's just to important things, like how many tiles are in the Pribnow box, or what clouds think of during a rainstorm."

The blue haired one slumps over, foxlike red eyes looking up into their wide, bright counterparts. "Look little sis, the first big Angel came. The small fry are getting restless too; that German girl got jumped on her way to Tokyo-3. At this rate, they're really gonna need us to be focused."

Grace gives her a goofy smile. "I'm focused Patricia; if I weren't I'd be that sticky orange stuff again."

Patricia groans, palming her face. "Seriously Grace, we're gonna have to fight and stuff. We might get shipped off to Nevada, or Tokyo, or Berlin." She grabs onto the sides of Grace's face. "They could separate us!"

"They wouldn't separate me from big sis!" Grace squeaks, biting her lower lip. She grabs onto her sister like a vice. "I wouldn't let them! I'd become one with you and then they couldn't pull us apart, never ever."

Patricia caresses her sister's cheek, and then pulls her down by the ahoge. "Then who would pilot Beta? I can't split myself into two, you know." She pauses for a moment, thinks that one over. "Well, I can, but it hurts."

"B-b-but," Grace stammers upside down, legs folded over her head, lower lip quivering.

"No buts little sis," Patricia says with a motherly expression. "You've gotta put on your big girl core for me now, okay?" Grace sniffles and nods. "Good girl." The two strange girls sit there for a while, soaking in sisterly understanding. Yes, soaking in sisterly understanding and failing to notice the click of boots on a metal floor. The owner of the boots, a proud looking woman with short, strawberry blond hair and a male uniform, walks right behind them without incident. She clicks her heels together and clears her throat.

"Hello girls," the woman says in a rich, commanding voice. The sisters almost leap out of their skin at the sound and whirl to attention with inhuman fluidity. She throws up a loose salute; smiles like the Big Bad Wolf would smile at twin Red Riding Hoods. "You do realize you had a harmonics test that was supposed to start 10 minutes ago, right?"

The two girls gulp in unison. "Y-yes ma'am," Patricia says meekly. Grace merely whimpers.

"I don't have to tell you where you need to be right now, do I?"

"No'm," Grace almost whispers, head bowed.

The proud woman claps her hands with delight. "Wonderful. Have fun now!"

"Yes Captain Mao, ma'am!" the two blurt in unison, both ramrod straight. The woman drops her salute and the girls bolt down the hallway. She watches them go like kids dropped off at daycare and fails to notice someone sneak up behind her.

"Still a terror to the girls, I see," a hearty voice says into her ear. Mao jumps and whirls, trains her gun on the unknown with automatic efficiency. She sees the white lab coat and imposing figure, and her brain catches up with her trigger finger. She tsks and lowers the weapon, embarrassed.

"The next time you do that you're getting a bullet in the gut," she states matter of factly.

The former target of opportunity puts his hands up in surrender. "You've said that so much it's lost all meaning."

"I'll just have to shoot you the next time," Mao says, holstering her holdout. "So you know I'm serious."

"That wouldn't be good for morale, you know," the lab tech says, adjusting his glasses. "And you need me to take care of the girls."

"If only you'd do it on time," Mao shoots back, "You said it would take three hours to recalibrate Grace after she locked herself in a feedback loop. It took you three days."

"She was in the Eva, it was a delicate operation," he says with a nervous chuckle.

"Child Beta and Evangelion Beta are inextricably linked: we can't afford to have either of them down for more than is absolutely necessary," she glowers. "And you know how Alpha gets when her little sister is hurt."

The lab tech runs a hand through moppy blue-black hair, fiddles with the welder's goggles he wears as a good luck charm. "I had 12 payments left on that car, too…"

"All the more reason you should work harder, Kazahara," Mao says flatly. "We don't pay you to dig holes; we pay you to keep our Alpha and Beta working."

* * *

~!

* * *

After many trials and tribulations, the two children and their caretaker make it to stable ground. Since the stable ground was the caretaker's house, that didn't raise the spirits of Shinji and Asuka. Not that Misato noticed or cared, as she kicked the door to her own house down.

"Oh man, I need a drink," Misato moans, walking into her kitchen without a second thought. She opens up the larger of two refrigerators; the path from it to the door the cleanest part of the main room. Underwear and empty liquor containers are everywhere, the receipts of excess. She cracks open a tallboy, gulps it down, and gives a sideways look to her charges.

"So this is what being a spinster looks like," Asuka says, pinching her nose. She knew Misato could be messy, but this was ridiculous. She swears she saw a bra twitch; one of her eyelids twitches with it.

"Aw come on, don't be squares," Misato says, lips hovering closely to the can. "Mi casa es su casa!"

"This isn't a house," Asuka mutters, "This is a gravesite." Shinji takes one look at the blasted hellscape that is Misato's abode and is completely transfixed. This was the house of someone with a serious problem. He had met yet another woman with a serious problem. The only way to deal with a serious problem, his father had taught him, was to attack it head on.

"F-forgive my rudeness," he gulps, as he proceeds to cross the threshold.

Misato spits out some of her beer laughing. "You're not a guest, silly," she says, waving him in. Her demeanor turns suddenly serious. "You live here now. This is your home, so treat it as such."

He gulps, frozen by the sudden gravity exuded from the strange woman. A home. A new home, closer to a father he still hasn't seen, a woman he's never known, and a girl who won't stay out of his life. With a deep breath, he nods strongly; eyes set forward. He strides over the threshold confidently, gets both feet across. He exhales, the tension relieved.

"I'm home."

"Welcome back," Misato cheers, holding her can in salute. She tosses him an unopened beer can, which he ducks and Asuka catches one handed.

"What, no welcoming party for me, Katsuragi?" Asuka chides, entering the apartment. She cracks open her can and takes a draught, sagging in mock-pain. "I'm hurt."

"It was for the both of you," she mumbles, cleaning off her table with one sweep. "Now sit down and tell me how you've been." They look to each other, and then to the forbidding landscape of mess. They shake their heads no. Misato puts on a wide, bright smile, though her words crack like whips. "Sit. Down."

They scamper over, obeying the implied order of their commanding officer. It's an arduous journey; half-full beer cans pop like proximity mines. Shinji pulls out a chair for his female companion, to which she smirks and does the same.

"Ladies first, Stupid Shinji," Asuka says, staring him down.

"I always suspected you had a penis, Asuka," Shinji fires back, bowing his head respectfully. Misato gives an unladylike snort at that one, slaps her knee and kills a can. She squeals with delight and leans over the table to ruffle Shinji's hair.

"The profile was totally wrong on you kid," she says with a sloppy grin, "You've got spunk!"

"Well, that's what usually happens when you're a pervert," Asuka snips, trying to regain some lost honor.

Shinji looks over to her and rubs the back of his head. "No, no, no, you get a lot of spunk on you when you're a pervert. Or if you hang out with perverts." His mouth finally writes him a check his ass can't cash and Asuka smacks him upside the head. This earns another fit of uproarious laughter from Misato.

"You guys should be a manzai duo or something," she says, taking another drink. A light turns on in her head, and she slams her hands on the table. "We could be rich!" She gestures wildly, stars in her eyes. "I have the name too, Weva Duo! Or maybe One-Tsundere-Three, if we can get Rei to do it!"

"Uh, Misato," Shinji sits down. "Who's Rei?"

Asuka cocks an eyebrow and smiles a trollish smile. "She's your cous-"

Misato snaps and glares at her, makes her bite her tongue. "Who's Rei? Who's Rei?" She sinks back with a goofy grin. "Why just the sweetest little thing you've ever seen! She's got beautiful pale skin, sky-blue hair, and legs for days."

Shinji blushes a little, fidgets with his fingers. "When can I meet her?"

"You'll see her when we go in for your preliminary harmonics test, tiger," she says, egging on his youthful fire. He blushes a little harder, visions of sexual fantasies dance in his head.

Asuka glances at him, looks to open her mouth, but is shot down by the death glares Misato shoots her between drunken slurring and cheeky smiles. She leaves him to his fate, and begins to drink. The Japanese horse piss does nothing for her, but it would look worse if she didn't play Katsuragi's little game. The back and forth between them bores her to tears; she needed an out before she just started smashing her head against the table.

"I'm going to take a bath," she says, getting up from the table. "You better not peep," she adds, half warning, half challenge.

Shinji calmly pours himself a cup of tea. "Nothing to see," he says, taking a sip. Asuka growls and flips him the bird, then stomps off into the bathroom.

* * *

**Side B: Stop Me If You've Heard This One  


* * *

**

The bathroom is the only clean part of the apartment it seems; outside of some lingerie hanging on a rack it was positively pristine. It made sense that even a dirty woman would want to keep something clean, Asuka thought as she disrobed. The bath had already been run, and the air was muggy, which was strange. She didn't think about it too much, as the inviting waters called to her aching muscles. Carefully, she dips herself into the water, one leg after another, before sliding in the rest of the way. The swirling splash makes her giggle, makes her feel like a kid again.

"So this is what it feels like to share the same bath as Misato and Stupid Shinji," she says, sinking lower into the bath. "To breathe the same air, to be in the same place. I like it."

She blows bubbles in the water, listens to her own motorboat sounds. She feels something brush against her leg and she pushes it away. It pushes back, and she kicks at it. She brushes her feet under the water, trying to find it so she can kick it some more. She doesn't need to search for very long, as the object makes itself known.

Two green eyes look down at her from across a beak, which is surprising because the penguin is looking up at her. It looks at her like a teacher catching a child playing hooky and warks in annoyance.

And Asuka just screams and screams.

* * *

~!

* * *

Misato leans over the table with a lecherous look. "She totally wants it."

Shinji takes another sip of his tea, measures his next words. "I hadn't noticed."

His caretaker raises an eyebrow, incredulous. Gears turn in her head, and she rocks back, content to soak in the quiet atmosphere. They sit like that, taking each other in, getting used to just being with other people. It feels nice.

The high-pitched squeal from the bathroom most certainly does not, however.

"Jesus fuck what is that thing!" Asuka squeals, smashing the bathroom door open. A strange little penguin waddles out from beneath her, stops to take a look at her bare ass, and shrugs before resuming his strut. He gives tittering warks, as if he were laughing at the new girl.

"Oh, that's PenPen," Misato says as if living with a penguin was the most normal thing in the world, "He's my other roomie." She looks the new girl up and down, gives her a thumbs up. "Hey, puberty finally hit you like a ton of bricks. You don't look like a ladyboy any more."

Asuka beams and mugs for Misato. "Well, I am a growing young woman, aren't I?" she says with pride, showing off her newly won curves. She caresses herself, gives her best "do me" face to the adoring audience in her head. In reality, she had just given said face to a bright red Shinji.

He shields his eyes, more to protect his face than for any reasons of modesty. "Does this count as peeking? Because I like what I see."

It happens in an instant: Asuka going from confusion to realization to embarrassment to abject horror to berserker rage. She runs headlong at the table, leaps onto it, and in one smooth motion kicks Shinji's head off his shoulders. If he was going to die, he thought, at least it was on a high note. She lands in a perfect two point stance and turns to the unconscious Ikari; covering herself with smugly crossed arms.

"You stupid pervy letch," she scolds, eyes glittering. "I can't fucking believe you!"

* * *

~!

* * *

Yui Ikari was getting used to having a shiny new abomination body. The change in sense of scale was strange to her; she missed staring down on the little people as an oni of legend. She got a nice, perky set of tits out of the deal, so it wasn't all bad. It felt nice to be in her physical and mental prime at the same time; she was practically an ubermensch now. And as an ubermensch, it was her sacred duty to enlighten the lesser beings.

"Gendo, sweetie, I have a question," she says sweetly, looking over some files.

He looks up with a start, having fallen asleep in his trademark pose. "Yes, my dear?"

"Why does Rei live in an abandoned apartment complex?"

His cheek twitches, the only mar on his impassive face. "Tactical reasons. And it's not abandoned, there are agents stationed throughout the complex."

"Is the place wired?"

He waves her off, "Too expensive. Rei can take care of herself."

"Did you know it was scheduled for demolition yesterday?"

"Wait," his face falls, "What?"

"She told me in the infirmary. It was the only thing we could get out of her, she was so doped up." Yui harrumphs, looking at her husband like a schoolmarm.

Fuyutsuki frowns; from what he had heard, Ayanami was going through their painkiller stock far too quickly. As the PR man of NERV, it would fall to him to spin the controversy of a junkie pilot into anything but a disaster. Between that and the turnip incidents at school, she was becoming more and more of a liability as the public face of the Children of Evangelion. Perhaps if he made her an idol singer, the populace would be more willing to indulge her of eccentricities.

"She should have told me," Gendo says, head bowed the slightest fraction in deference.

"She did sir," Fuyutsuki adds. "It's in your notes between the JSSDF's design notes for the JA Project and a reminder from the video store to return 'Naughty Nagato 2: Endless Anal'."

Yui gives Gendo a sideways glance, clicks her teeth. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

He adjusts his glasses nervously, "Of course not dear; there's nothing I want to do involving Rei's ass…I mean your ass…I mean Rei's safety." He sighs, "Right. I have nothing to do with Rei's safety." That's what he was supposed to say.

"How did you survive without me, Rokobungi?" Yui says, pinching her sinuses.

"I didn't," he says flatly, "That's why we're having this conversation and why my son wasn't thrown into the Oedipal titan today."

She nods, "True. Are you going to see Shin-chan's first time?"

"I can delegate that to Fuyutsuki," he says curtly. "We need him eager to pilot; it wouldn't do to have him cause a scene. He'd probably get all 'why did you abandon me father?' and that's a waste of everyone's time." He sighs, the weight of age casting dark shadows on his features. "Then I'd have to use Rei as a honey trap and you know how she gets around boys. In the end, I'd be using her; using both of them, like some perverted manchild playing with dolls."

Yui chuckles with good-natured mischief. "I knew there was a reason you used Ayanami's template for me," she teases. The pained look Gendo gives her cuts her merriment short, turns it into protective warmth. "You should see him. It'd be good for the both of you, you know." She gives him a knowing look, "You mustn't run away, after all".

* * *

~!

* * *

There's no real way to prepare yourself for going underground while still having the sun shine upon you. First of all, going underground is a big thing; delving deep into Mother Earth is an action few dare to perform. Throw in the fact that not only is there still sun somehow, but there's an entire city under a city, with inverted buildings and everything, and it reaches mindblowing proportions.

So you'll have to excuse Shinji for drooling everywhere like an over-excited dog.

"You really are stupid," Asuka says whimsically, taking sideways glances at Shinji in between gawking herself. "It's like you've never been on a ski lift before."

"You're just jaded," Misato says, seated on the opposite side of her. "You saw this almost every other day for years. Let the kid have his fun."

"Yeah," says Shinji, "Just because you don't have any childlike glee in that cold black heart of yours doesn't mean you have to ruin it for the rest of us."

Asuka hmphs with an air of superiority. "Only children act childlike, and I'm an adult. When you last saw me, I spoke as a child; I thought as a child, I understood as a child." She smirks. "After my time with Kaji I put away such childish things."

"Speaking of which, Kaji'll be at the test."

Asuka's face lights up like the Fourth of July. "Really? My Kaji-waji will be there?" she squeaks, voice a half-octave higher and three times more girly.

"What was that about being a child?" Shinji says, staring out over the man-made lake.

"Bite me, arseloch."

"You two get along great," Misato says as the lift stops. She walks out the door, gives herself a head start down the drab hallway. That Sohryu is surprisingly quick. "Almost like an old married couple."

Asuka lunges for her, but Misato's spacing is correct like Daigo Umehara. She takes a step to the side and Sohryu goes wide. She almost falls on her face, but recovers and strides like she owns the place. "It's not like that!"

"Actually Asuka, it kind of was," Shinji says in full deference mode, walking behind her. "You'd wake me up, help me clean up after school, finish my sentences, and beat up people who gave me shit." He smiles warmly at that one, watching Asuka go to work on somebody was better than a giant robot fight. "Now that I think about it, you were more like a really cool older brother. With boobs."

She growls, brain locking up between respect, annoyance, and was that a tinge of romantic regret? Hell no, The Great Asuka Sohryu-Langley loves only two things: combat and Kaji. And that wonderful Udon soup Shinji used to make with the bratwurst and the mushrooms and the ooh.

Okay. Three things, she thinks, surreptitiously licking her lips. And that last one doesn't count.

"I don't know whether that means you've finally admitted I'm swinging the bigger dick in this relationship or you don't see me as a woman." An eyelid twitches. "For your sake, it better be the first one, Third."

"Hey, you're referring to him as a pilot now," Misato points out, taking the third wrong left turn at Hallway 42-C. "Maybe you can do some 'special training' after this."

"That'd be child pornography and you know it, Katsuragi," a bedraggled voice calls out from beyond the corridor. Out pops everyone's favorite bottle-blonde biologist, stepping in close enough to Misato to smell her. "There are cameras in every part of NERV, and knowing you, you'd sell the security tapes for booze money."

"Well hello to you too RItsu," Misato says testily, bothered by the egregious breach of personal space. "Eaten any good carpets lately?"

"This is the three hundred and fifth time you've opened with that line," she says, casually leafing through a sheaf of papers. "You've got to do better than that, Meat Lover Misato." She looks down her nose at the two pilots. "Huh. You managed to drag the Commander's bastard in with you, Second. Congratulations."

"I'm not a bastard! At least, I'm pretty sure I'm not."

"It's not like I wanted him to follow me or anything."

"Careful Asuka, your tsuntsun is showing."

She sticks out her tongue and flips Misato the bird.

"I have a question," Shinji says to Ritsuko. "Is everyone here at NERV as needlessly snarky as you?"

She gives a mirthless chuckle. "No kid, only the ones who suck your daddy's dick are. Now come along, we've got Geneva Conventions to break." Before anyone can parse the full meaning of that sentence, Akagi herds the group down another hallway, into a freight elevator, and onto a hydrofoil. The heady stench of Creation burns Shinji's nostrils; he almost gags from it.

"Pussy," Asuka sniggers. He shoots her a hurt look in response and she deflects it with smug. Just to rub it in, she takes a huge whiff of the stuff and contentedly sighs.

"I assume you have no idea about anything, so I'll say this in a way that you can understand," Ritsuko says, voice raised over the chopping sound of rotor cutting through LCL. "Sixteen years ago, we spit in God's eye, and like a bitch, he's sent his flunkies, the Angels to do his dirty work. We are humanity's last hope against these threats. To this end, we have developed the ultimate combat cyborg to defeat them; the New Century's Weapon, Artifical Humanoid Evangelion!" She clenches her fist in silent victory, radiates confidence.

"Is she always like this?" Shinji whispers.

"You caught her in a good mood today," Asuka whispers back, "Usually she's a huge bitch."

"Ah, So there's two of you now."

"…I walked into that one didn't I?"

"Yep."

"You're gonna get yours one of these days, Stupid Shinji."

"A-hem," Ritsuko coughs, sneering. "We're here."

* * *

* * *

~!

* * *

* * *

They disembark on dry metal; a latticework of squat steel plates and connecting cylinders scale like spiders across purple and green armor. A service elevator takes them up the grand structure, revealing every joint and curve of the human figure writ ludicrously large. The heights grow dizzying as more of the body reveals itself; a wiry titan cast in Day-Glo finery, a god bound with ridiculous fashion sense.

They reach the top and Shinji goes agog; empty black sockets stare at him from beneath a fearsome brow, as if daring him to say something funny about its condition. Jaws clamped shut, one great horn atop its head, it resembled nothing more than an Oni in a Tron remake. Misato slides behind him, puts a friendly arm around his neck and rests her…talent on top of his head.

"That's your new ride kid," she says, filled with pride. "Of course, if you're willing to pilot it."

"I, uh, can I speak to…" he swallows, shaking. "Father. I want to speak to Father." Misato's face falls, she glances back to Ritsuko for moral support and she shrugs; it's not her problem. She motions to play for time and goes back to browsing her notes.

Misato gives a nervous laugh, "Well, about that. You see, your father is a busy man and-"

"There will be no need for that," a commanding voice booms out over military speakers, as the darkened skybox behind the great beast lights up. Directly above the Eva, above Shinji, above everyone and everything stands Gendo Ikari; hands in the folded and upright position. By his side is a wheelchair-bound Rei: arm in a sling, patch over one eye, oozing the kind of vulnerability that usually comes with a Chris Hansen setup.

Shinji's demeanor hardens, he glares up at his father from under darkened brow. "Is this what you brought me here for? You sent me away for years because of this, this thing and now you want me to pilot it?" He turns his head away, "I thought you and Mom wanted me to live a normal life"

Gendo curses inwardly, though his expression doesn't change. He knew something like this would happen. "Circumstances have changed. Unit 01 has been shown through preliminary tests to be most compatible with you." He looks down to Rei, who gives him a knowing nod. "The First has shown competency with Unit 01, and the Second has trained for Eva piloting since she was six. If I merely wanted a pilot I would have one of them do it." He stares down his son, stares down the mistakes he's made and will probably continue to make. "I don't need merely a pilot. I need someone to take his destiny in his hands, and rise to become a legend. I need someone who's experienced normalcy, so they fight twice as hard to protect it."

For a brief moment, it looks as though he might waver, might lose his touch. But then his eyes meet Shinji's; past staring into future. And they understand. And he understands. He has to make this one count.

"But most of all, I need my son."

The room goes deathly quiet, tension so thick you could cut it with a Prog Knife. Seven breaths pass like seven years.

"I'll do it," he says, unsure of himself. He nods, as if trying to shake away the last strands of doubt in his mind. He grins a small, fierce thing at his father. So much like Yui he was; such power under such softness. The elder Ikari returns the grin; the scenario was on the express lane to Awesome Town now.

"I'll do it!"

His next words are muffled in the marshmallow hell that is Misato's relieved embrace. The room takes a collective gasp for breath as the situation defuses. Shinji's gasp comes a little bit later and with a lot more struggle as he frees himself from Katsuragi's clutches.

"You've found some balls after all, eh Stupid Shinji?" Asuka says, praising with faint damnation. She raps him on the head and nods approval. "You'll make a good seat warmer for me."

"Oh dramatic tension, where would we be without you," Ritsuko mutters to herself. "Alright, you've got five minutes of soaking in praise like a sponge and then we do preliminary harmonics testing."

This was it. This was what he hoped for. Hell, it was better than what he hoped for. It wasn't quite reconciliation, but it wasn't being made to dance for a madman's amusement. He would finally get to be somebody, have something praiseworthy about him. He would have a reason to exist. More importantly, he thought, he might be able to get closer to that adorable little wounded girl with his father. The one who had wheeled herself to the microphone.

"Welcome to NERV Pilot Shinji Ikari," she says, affectation flat but eyes smiling. "Forgive the Supreme Commander."


	3. Start Me Up

**Episode 3**

**

* * *

**

**Side A: Start Me Up

* * *

  
**

The price of praise and personal self-worth is apparently soaking in blood-flavored orange beverage. If he had known that, maybe Shinji wouldn't have been so excited to receive it.

They've got hair clips on him now; they had to use the First's for a neural map first. Asuka's not going to let him live this one down, but fuck her; he feels pretty. He can breathe in the orange stuff, but the wonderful taste of iron and placenta in his mouth makes the decision to do so more difficult than it should be. It's translucent, so he can see through it to the blank screen in front of him. There are no seatbelts in this thing, that can't possibly be safe.

"How do you feel, Third?" Ritsuko asks over the radio connection, already bored.

"Like I'm developing an unbirthing fetish, ma'am," he replies, guilelessly.

"That's to be expected, the extra oxygen and cocktail of sedatives we put in there will do that to you." Well, that and the fact that the whole act of riding an Eva is an exercise in Freudian symbolism. "Let me know if you start seeing phallic or yonic imagery."

"What?"

Ritsuko shakes her head, damn kids don't understand her genius. None of the other viewers understand her genius, they just ask her to do science to things. She peers over Maya's shoulder to gaze listlessly at the harmonics data while the other techs keep the basics running. She perks up. "Maya."

"Yes, sempai?" she responds mousily.

"Did you calibrate the First's A10 connectors before this?"

"Even though you only gave me five minutes, yes, they checked out."

She shoots a furtive glance to Rei, who shrugs. "You didn't do anything funny with Unit 01, did you?"

"I did not become one with it this time. Will that suffice?"

Ritsuko leans in further, slack with interest. "Huh. Well fuck me."

"If you would be so kind," Shinji interjects. He coughs nervously when there's no response.

"Should we tell the Second?" Maya whispers to her superior.

"I kind of want to see her pitch a bitch, so yes," Ritsuko responds, leaning back into an embrace of masculine arms. "Make it big and brassy, too. You won't mind?"

"It'll be a good test for her," the owner of the arms, Ryoji Kaji responds. "See if she can share the spotlight." He gives a rakish glance to the Operations Director and winks; she bites a handkerchief in some combination of rage and jealousy. "The best way to learn a woman's heart is to see her handle her envious nature."

"Is it supposed to feel like you're being caressed by dozens of delicate female hands?" Shinji asks, girlish giggling ringing in his ears. "Can I come out now?"

"No," Ritsuko glares at Rei, who begins to whistle and tents her hands in front of her face. "And yes. We've got what we need." She takes one last look at the data on Maya's screen, double and triple checked accurate, and shakes her head. "Come on out, kid."

The lights shut out inside of Shinji's cockpit and he feels a great weight being lifted from him. Bloody orange beverage drains out from the plug and the world returns to normal. He coughs and sputters, takes deep, heaving breaths of sweet, clean, clear air. He gags and sneezes Nickelodeon orange; spits and coughs. The LCL clings to him and he suddenly feels kinship with tampons.

He looks down to pointy red boots, follows them up sinuous legs, balled fists on shapely hips, pinched waist, perky breasts, copper hair, and the smuggest expression this side of his father.

"So, how's it feel?" Asuka asks, dripping with cheerful malice. He retches in response. "That's what I thought, bitch."

"That bitch," Ritsuko says over the sound system. She lights a cigarette and takes a drag, savors the next few words in her head. "Just matched your average Sync Ratio." She drives the point home with a flourish. "Without a plugsuit."

Asuka crouches down, looks Shinji over like some strange and alien creature. Apparently finding nothing to explain why the world doesn't make sense anymore, she turns to her default reaction; indigent rage.

"No. No no no. Bullshit. BullSHIT!" She stomps out a tantrum, beating a tattoo on the Eva's catwalk. "How can this," she gestures emphatically at Shinji, "Be as good as this?"

He gives her a weak smile, wipes some LCL saliva from his lip. "You always said making you miserable was the only thing I was good at, Asuka."

That just pours kerosene on the flames. She grabs him by the lapels, crusty with primordial goo, and lifts him onto his feet. "Listen here and listen fucking good Stupid Shinji. If you are going to have the gall to luck into Syncing as good as me than so help me God you're going to act the part!" She shakes him a few times, drawing another coughing fit from the poor boy. The three college compatriots look on in horror, while the techs keep to their busywork. Rei wheezes, or maybe giggles.

"I thought you were supposed to calm her down, Kaji," Misato hisses.

He smirks and rubs knowingly at his stubble. "I already did Misato, watch and learn."

Asuka pulls the beleaguered Third Child close, grinds forehead to forehead with him. "You are not going to run away. You are not going to be a weeping vagina for me to sop up." She snaps at him, so close she could bite his nose off. "You will give your all in piloting Eva. You. Will. Keep. Up. With. Me."

Shinji gulps and exhales; matching Asuka's towering rage with cold fear. "What if I can't?"

Her demeanor shifts pleading; the inferno collapsing into a hurt sadness. "Then I'll never forgive you."

They share a tense moment, and then she shoves him down; storming off towards the observation chamber. She's gotta make it look good for the cameras.

"Oh yeah, that was calm," Misato snarks. "You're as good at raising kids as you were at pressing my buttons."

Kaji stretches out, maintaining cool guy persona. He runs the whisper of fingers across the back of her neck and she freezes. "So absolutely amazing at it, you mean?" Ritsuko turns away from the display of affection; prods Maya to do busywork faster. Before Kaji can make further work of Misato's defenses, Asuka blows into the room like a hurricane; tugging him along with her.

"You. Me. Shopping. Swimsuits. Now."

Kaji slouches along, chuckling an apology as he goes. Once out of range of any prying eyes, his henpecked position shifts to a confident stride. As he does so, Asuka's angry stomp slows and softens; she falls slightly behind him. She tugs at his shirt, bangs over her eyes, a little blush on her cheeks.

"Hey Kaji."

"Yeah, Asuka?"

"I think the Th..Shinji's gonna be alright."

He gives her hair a playful little rustle, "Of course he is. He's got the Great Asuka Sohryu-Langley watching over him."

* * *

~!

* * *

LCL is a very itchy thing when it dries, especially when it gets in one's hair. Shinji learns this firsthand as he scratches madly at his scalp, orange flakes falling like the snow Tokyo-3 never gets. He slumps onto the work bench in the closet-sized changing room and stares contemptuously at certain parts of his anatomy.

"Man, my dick is so confused right now," he mutters to no one in particular.

"It seems to fit in the NERV collective then," says a soft voice from behind. Shinji whips back, locks eyes with the no longer wheelchair bound blunette. "We haven't properly introduced ourselves." She pauses for a moment. "Well, I know everything about you already, but I don't believe it's mutual."

"What do you mean, "everything"?" Shinji asks, more than a little creeped out by the fey girl's flat demeanor.

"I know your height, weight, blood type, food allergies, Midichlorian count," Rei states, listing off each point with her fingers. "But I've never seen you in the flesh, Shinji Ikari."

"That's…nice," Shinji responds, a nonaggressive slink giving him a better view of the strange girl's ample talent.

She hobbles in through his personal space. "They are, aren't they?" she says as she looks down with her one good eye.

Shinji gives a nervous chuckle, "Why yes, they're round and pert and just the right size." He gives her a nonthreatening grin, which is met with a confused look.

"The Evangelion units are not round, they're humanoid," she says, frowning slightly. "How can you get that wrong?"

"No, no, not that," Shinji flails. "I was referring to you, Rei."

Her frown becomes stormier. "I am not round either, I am humanoid." She tilts her head, as if a different angle could provide a different perspective on the kid. "Could you be simple, perhaps?"

They stare at each other for a long moment; Shinji's consternation matching Rei's confusion. The intensity of the blunette's gaze gives Shinji greater pause; if he didn't know any better he would think that Rei was sizing him up like a target.

Or perhaps a piece of meat.

"So, you were in Unit 01 to fight that Angel, right?" he says awkwardly, wilting under Rei's red eyes. She nods.

"You did well."

"If this is well," she says, waving her injured arm, "Then death must be mediocre."

Shinji blanches. This girl was giving off some serious weirdness vibes here, but hey, Misato wasn't lying about her; as far as 16 year olds went, she was built like a brick shithouse. "That's an interesting way of twisting my words," he says, pulling out his NERV-provided civilian attire. "You sound like my father."

"That's because I am your father," she says with a note of whimsy, eyes trailing his movements. "I'm also your mother, your sister, your aunt, and possibly your brother."

"What?"

Rei coughs demurely into a hand to hide the ghost of a smirk. "Bad joke. I do spend a great deal of time with Commander Ikari however."

"Makes sense," Shinji says, glancing over his shoulder at a Rei that seems extremely interested in him stripping to his skivvies. An edge creeps into his voice as he pulls his pants back up. "Father always was an eccentric."

"Eccentricity is the single defining trait of my peers," Rei retorts, huffing slightly at the striptease going on in front of her. "And don't mind me here; change, change."

He hikes up his pants further up, blushing hotly. He was supposed to tell the pretty girls to strip, not the other way around. "I can't do it when someone's watching!"

Ayanami clicks her tongue and hobbles away, as nonchalant as a girl half-wrapped in bandages can be. She takes one good look with her good eye; nods approvingly. "Pilots dress together, Shinji Ikari. NERV policy." She waves a limp salute and walks off, a broken spring in her step. Shinji watches her leave, dumbstruck, mouth agape. He shakes the cobwebs out and continues changing; only stopping to take a disapproving glance down at himself.

"You're going to get me into so much shit, aren't you?"

* * *

~!

* * *

If one is going to charge slutty swimsuits on an international super-spy's dollar, it pays to have friends to direct traffic and carry the bags. Asuka never really had friends; she had those that respected and feared her. Well, she did, back in Berlin-2, but this isn't Berlin-2. It's Tokyo-3 and she's the fish out of water again. She could probably Gaijin Smash her way into some followers, she thought, but Kaji told her to stop doing that after the second assault charge. Since she couldn't use her prodigious talents, she had to settle for whatever drifted her way.

"Long time no see 'Suka," a cheerfully smug Mari Makinari Illustrious calls out; already two stores deep with jailbait finery. "Still hugging Kaji's nuts I see."

Said nuthugger playfully flips her other half the bird. "If you're saying shit like that, it means you still have more tits than brains, I take it?" They measure each other up, get chest to chest and stare each other down like bull rams; Asuka's determined grin met by Mari's amused smile. The tension can be cut with a knife but is shattered with a hug.

"Oh man, I missed you so much 'Suka-nya," she purrs, nuzzling against the younger girl's head.

"Yeah, whatever," Asuka replies; breaking the embrace. She sizes up her elder, shifts into a taunting demeanor. "Still have that tic, huh? Trying to turn some otaku on?"

Kaji puts a paternal hand on both girls' shoulders, interjecting himself into the reunion. "Girls your age shouldn't worry about turning anybody on," he says, drawing bemused looks from his wards. "Although beauty is a burden that knows no age, and the both of you are quite encumbered."

"You're such a manwhore, Kaji," Mari chuckles, smacking his hand away. She sallies forth through the shopping complex, sniffing out the most expensive outfitters.

"Yeah," Asuka says, wrapping his arm around her to lead him by the nose, "Do you say anything to a woman that isn't to get into her pants?"

"Why of course," he says with mock hurt. "Everything I say is honest and forthright. It wounds me that you would think I have an ulterior motive for anything."

They smirk at him, give him looks that scream bullshit. "Yeah, Kaji, you're completely pure and honest."

"A regular saint you are."

Asuka's the first to crack a sarcastic break, "And Four-eyes here has a healthy, totally not perverse enjoyment of competition."

"Yeah, I'm the spitting image of effort, friendship, an' victory," Mari says, cracking her neck with a shrug. "Just like 'Suka's a perfectly well-adjusted social butterfly."

"Hey Four-eyes; what are you, stupid?" Asuka teases back, "I am a well-adjusted social butterfly! Everybody loves me, unlike your kinky ass."

"You have one orgasm during a live fire exercise and you're marked a pervert for life, eh Sohryu?"

"No shit."

"You girls sell yourselves far too short," Kaji whistles, steering Asuka away from the fetish shop and towards a delicatessen. She pulls against him, but his flowing gait catches her in his undertow and into the restaurant.

"Or maybe you're just trying to bolster our fragile egos, so we don't kill ourselves or something," Asuka says in a drunkard's whisper. "Gotta have warm bodies for the Evas."

"But if that were the case, he'd want us dependent and needy," Mari responds, looking over her shoulder at Asuka. "Well, needier. Like drugs, beating, and rough sex dependent and needy." She pauses for a moment, thinks it over. "Y'know that might actually be fun…"

Kaji grumbles just a little bit, his shoulders slump just a little bit, but his demeanor stays relaxed. He pulls out chairs for his girls; Mari takes it with a grin and Asuka swings her way into his chair. He tsks and takes the only open chair. "Katsuragi'd have a field day with this. I think I have a complex."

"A Lolita complex," Asuka snipes, rubbing hopefully against his arm. Mari snickers and makes kissy noises; which just makes her rub harder, up to the point where she could probably catch fire from it. Kaji tries his damnedest to shake her politely, but when Asuka Sohryu-Langley locks onto something, nothing short of death will make her let go.

* * *

~!

* * *

When Touji Suzuhara is convinced of something, nothing short of death will make him let go of that idea. Such is the case of his current consternation with the fine men, women, and whatever the hell Ayanami is of NERV. It wasn't so much that the pilot flailed about like someone who had never piloted a giant robot before, because he or she didn't; it was that the combined shockwave from the N2 mines, combined with the small lake of blood that washed through the city totally ruined his folks' house. The carpets and walls were dyed red and stank of old blood for days on end. It got into the water supply somehow too; made taking a bath look like someone stabbed Mr. Bubble.

Oh, and his little sister got swept away by the tide of blood. She was asking for it; leaning outside of her bedroom window baying for blood like a berserk hound, or for those who've been playing along, Illustrious during her period. Which, all things considered, are probably the same thing. She got banged up really bad, but was pretty happy about the whole thing; said she could've died happy in that moment of surfing the crimson tide.

More importantly, bathing in water that looked and smelled like old rusted iron doesn't make one a happy person. Having to do that for a week on end can drive a man to murder. He forgot to take a knife from the kitchen, and Ai had taken Murasame-chan with her, so no murder today. So he has to settle with the next best thing.

"Hey Ayanami," he says, lip puckered in punkish indignation. "You're a pilot, right?"

The pale girl nods, leaning heavily on a crutch. She gives the best puppy-dog face she can with one eye covered, which isn't a very good one.

"Well I've got something to say," he sulks.

"By the way you're standing and the quivering of your lower lip, you wish to converse with your fists." She stares him down, one good eye dead with killing intent. "Go ahead, speak your peace." Her voice goes cold and quiet, "But be prepared, for I shall speak mine, too."

He keeps her chin up, but his knees start to quiver. He makes a move to make her flinch; she blinks and lifts her eyebrows up a fraction. He turns away and spits.

"Can't hit a girl, anyway," he mutters, walking away; hands in his pockets and head good and far down. He impotently kicks at a rock and turns a corner; opting to go into the school's main entrance than walk past Ayanami.

"See you in class, Suzuhara," she says, before spinning on her heel and heading to her homeroom. The Third would need someone to watch over her...him.

* * *

~!

* * *

"My name is Shinji Ikari," he says with a deep bow, "And I would like to make your acquaintance for this school year." His classmates don't share the enthusiasm, as they chatter amongst themselves. Fine then, let them chatter, let them ignore him. He's got a giant robot. Along with no less than one, and no more than three girls who have fallen under his moe spell. One of which kicks him off the stage that is the front of Classroom 2-A.

"Can't you see you're putting them to sleep, stupid?" Asuka blurts with a positively Haruhiesque smile. The crowd looks up at the sound of Shinji tumbling over a desk; the pain of others was always a good reason to pay attention. He rights himself and slams his hands on the desk he fell over.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he yells.

"The hell is wrong with me?" Asuka fires back, "The hell's wrong with you? You're boring, that's what." She turns her back on him, erases his name with aplomb before writing her own in big, bold Latin letters. "My name is Asuka Sohryu-Langley, pleased to meet you." She looks around to the class, points out certain elements. "Except for you, you, and you," she grimaces and stops on a kid with bushy brown hair and nerd glasses. "Oh god, especially you." She shivers, then rights herself and gives a small curtsy to the class, before walking off to the back of the class. Once in her seat, she kicks her feet up on the desk and smirks at Shinji, arms crossed.

"Well, that was...interesting," says the teacher; a short thing who, if it weren't for her golden eyes and long twintails, would be a dead ringer for a twenty-something Ayanami. "I see Ms. Sohryu believes this is an English class. Could you please write your name in Katakana, please?"

"Kata-what-now?"

"You're joking, right?"

Asuka scoffs, "Of course I am. What do you take me for?"

"Very well," she says, directing her to the board. The German girl slides out of her seat with an annoyed sound and stomps up to the board. She picks up a piece of chalk and surreptitiously slides out her NERV ID card; copies her name off of it with nervous glances. Even so, she's a little slower than someone who knows the language should be. She slides the card back into a breast pocket as she whirls towards the teacher; tosses her head defiantly at her, and walks back to her desk.

"You wrote 'Asuka Nnryu Langley'," Shinji whispers to her. She growls and he shrinks; grin hidden by a cross-armed face block.

The class goes by without any further incident; the teacher went through her astrophysics lesson, stopping every few minutes to mutter how she was surrounded by idiots as the kids payed her no mind. There were more important things to talk about than how there was the possibility of life on Mars and the use of mecha anime as broadcast material for extraterrestrial dowsing; like the relative bangability of the new girl, or that giant robot that survived getting nuked a week back. Who'd be crazy enough to do that, they thought. It had to be some sort of manly, lovable, charismatic sociopath; the kind of guy who had wicked sideburns, wore red scarves, and made important life decisions at the behest of British tabletop game figurines. The gaijin girl wasn't a guy, and more importantly, wasn't Japanese. Everybody knew that only Japanese kids could pilot giant mecha with any success.

By process of elimination, it had to be the wimp. So someone had to ask him. It was the only neat thing to do.

It came via text; the past two years of disseminated and declawed UN military tech had pulled the post-Second Impact world out of the Sega-dominated dystopia of 1994 Japan. A healthy bit of corporate competition fueled by unseen puppet strings does a lot to speeding up advancement up the old tech tree. Sure, Southeast Asia was still basically the closest thing to Hell on earth a man could get without getting Adam involved, but hey, that's a small price to pay for texting and portable pornography.

It would've been better for Shinji if they'd just shown him porn. But no, they had to ask him four simple words. Are you a pilot? He wanted to lie, he wanted to just blend in and be normal because Lilith knows there are going to be a scant few opportunities for him to do so very soon. He wanted to, but there was this girl with glasses and big boobs looking at him with hope gleaming in her nerdy little eyes. He loves girls with glasses and big boobs, as long as they don't sniff him and make him pay to see their panties. Now he was faced with a dilemma: normalcy, or boobies?

Normalcy?

Boobies?

Normalcy?

Boobies?

Fuck normal, what did normal ever do for him?

* * *

**Side B: You Got Knocked the [REDACTED] Out**

**

* * *

**

The nerdy girl faints with happiness. The crowd goes wild. Asuka stares daggers at him. Ayanami sighs and stares out of the window. People only seemed to notice what she does if she's in a skin-tight bodysuit looking like she's three seconds away from being ravished. All a part of the trials and tribulations of being NERV's doll.

"Was it scary?"

"Did it hurt?"

"Does it combine?"

"Could it fight Godzilla?"

The attention washes over Shinji like a wave of self-actualization; it felt nice being wanted, even if it was for a half-truth. In the back of his mind, he had a feeling that this would bite him in the ass later, but the glorious strain of the newly conscious girl's bosom against her uniform does a good job of smothering all thought. He laughs and acts deferential; partially because it's still strange to be liked, mainly because he doesn't want to be caught in his duplicity. Before he can grow fat off of praise, a surprisingly strong female hand yanks him away. The end period bell rings and before the crowd can bring him back, he and Asuka are off into the hallway.

"How does it feel, Third?" she whispers in his ear, sweet voice dripping with jealousy.

"It feels pretty damn nice, actually," Shinji replies, buzzing with unwarranted self-importance. "You should try it sometime."

"Lying?"

"Being nice," he fires back. So enamored is he with his own self that he takes the most obvious bait in the world.

"Hey, new kid?" Toji says to him, his fake smile downright feral, "I wanna show you just how much I appreciate you, outside, where there are no witnesses."

"Alright," Shinji shrugs, "It's the least I can do for my adoring public."

Asuka locks an arm around his neck, flashing a smile no less fake and no less feral, "I'm going with him. As a member of his entourage, of course."

"Then you wouldn't mind me coming along as Suzuhara's cameraman, right" the bushy, nerdy kid from before interjects, stepping in from wherever socially invisible nerds come from. Possibly Subspace.

"Follow your bliss," the blissed-out Shinji replies as the group steps outside. "So, what did you want to talk to me abou-," he turns to flash Toji his winningest smile and gets his second most painful punch to the jaw in return. His sense of self-love plummets like bum stocks; crashing to acceptable canon levels as he hits the ground with a thud.

"Sorry kid, had to hit you for hurting my sister."

"You have to excuse him, he gets this way sometimes," the nerdy one apologizes. "I'm Kensuke Aida, Toji's Meathead to Japanese interpreter."

"You want one too, Aida?" Toji says, cracking his knuckles. He scampers away from Shinji, falls back by Toji's side.

Asuka crouches down to survey the damage. It's nothing major, probably wont even bruise that much. She pokes Shinji in the shoulder, "Get up you pussy." He groans.

She leans in closer, speaks a lot more softly. "You okay, Stupid Shinji?" He grunts affirmative.

"You want I should kick his ass?" He nods vigorously.

She pops up, rolling on the balls of her feet, gives him a smarmy little look, then knees Toji in the stomach. His eyes bug out, he clutches his stomach, and he sinks to his knees in shock and pain. He collapses onto his hands, in faux-reverence to his redheaded destroyer.

"At least someone knows who the real attraction is," Asuka says, one foot on Toji's back. "Alright meathead, some ground rules. You touch Shinji, I touch you, got it?" He grumbles assent, to which Asuka stomps him into the ground. "Good." She lifts up a foot and looks at it disapprovingly. "Hey, Stupid Shinji. I think I stepped in something nasty. Is it still on my shoe?"

"Nope, but there's a puddle of emasculated jock over there that you stepped in," he replies, "Might want to watch out for that."

"Thank you, I will," she says, kicking Toji in the ribs for emphasis. "I'm off to do cool people stuff. See you assholes later." She walks away, humming a tune like some kind of 1920's Hollywood ingenue. Leaving Shinji, of course.

"Is she gone?" Toji grumbles into the dirt.

"Yeah, she's gone," Shinji says, helping him to his feet. "Sorry about that man, she gets a little crazy sometimes."

"A real charmer, that one," Toji says, brushing dirt out of his prized tracksuit.

"Hey, Toji, was it?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about earlier, and I'm sorry about your sister. I wasn't in the Eva; Ayanami was."

Toji shrugs, "I had a feeling about that. Ayanami and I, ah, had a discussion earlier," he shudders, cold dead eye staring into his soul again. "Couldn't hit a girl, so I had to take it out on somebody."

Shinji frowns, rubbing at the stinging in his cheek. "That's a pretty dick move."

"Toji's a pretty dick guy," Kensuke sneaks in between pauses.

"Can it, Aida," he snaps. "So, uh, see you tomorrow?"

"I guess," Shinji says, his brief tormentor's awkwardness only serving to make him more awkward.

He walks off, Kensuke in tow; waves a lazy salutation. "Peace." Shinji watches him go, touches tender fingers to a more tender patch of flesh. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of blue and white.

"You were there the whole time?"

Rei steps out from aside the school's main doorway. "Yes. Always." She passes him by, motions for her to follow, which he does.

"Hey Ayanami, what did you and Toji discuss, anyway?"

* * *

~!

* * *

"The Hedgehog's Dilemma," Ritsuko says slowly, as if explaining to a child. She's sharing a ski-lift like tram with a mildly hung over Misato, which is a lot like dealing with a child. A cranky child who swears like a sailor.

"What do pickles have to do with hedgehogs?" Misato grumbles, rubbing her temples. Why did the gears for this thing have to be so loud? And why was the room throbbing?

"Dilemma. Dil-em-ma." She straightens up in her seat. "Hedgehogs must get close to other hedgehogs, but they cannot do so without spiking themselves."

"We're not hedgehogs, silly," Misato half chuckles before the room spins around her and she puts her head in her lap. "Oh god."

Ritsuko sighs and rubs her friend's back, the only sounds the creak of the lift and the pitiable moans of Misato. "You know what I'm talking about; the Third had an incident today. He got into a fight."

"Did he kick the kid's ass?" Ritsuko shakes her head no.

"Did Asuka kick the kid's ass?" She pauses for a moment, grimaces a little, and shakes her head yes.

"So what's the problem?" Misato says, looking up. "He seems to have learned that part of becoming an adult is delegating things you don't want to deal with onto people with lower scruples."

"That's not right at all," the bottle-blond replies; wishing she could have a drink of her own. "To try and solve the dilemma, the hedgehog may retreat inwards; that only makes the spikes protrude further. The only neat thing to do is for the hedgehog to open itself fully; the more open it gets, the less the spikes protrude and the less it hurts."

"Is that what the Commander says when you're tickling his hedgehog?" Misato snickers, earning her a too-hard pound on the back. She coughs and sputters as the tram stops; Ritsuko already upright and moving into action. She looks back to Katsuragi, almost as an afterthought, and continues on to more important things.

"Sober up, you've got to spit platitudes at the boy for his combat training." She lingers for a moment, gaze going unfixed, thinking of her own platitudes. Misato rises to her feet, tottering; centers herself with a deep breath. She walks past her starstruck comrade and gives her a knowing wink; snapping her out of her reverie and into lockstep.

"Who needs to sober up now?"

As far as computerized murder simulators go, the one that served as the Evangelion combat simulator was underwhelming at best. For one thing, there was no viscera, no geysers of blood rushing into the sky like gravity-reversed waterfalls. According to it, the rest of the Angels were going to be collections of gray blocks. Shinji could deal with gray blocks; gray blocks didn't make him lose any motes of sanity.

"Center the target, pull the switch," That's what Misato said. "Center the target, pull the switch," That's all he needed to do to make the things die. "Center the target, pull the switch," Mow down one; another will take its place. "Center the target, double tap."

Okay, strike that not losing any sanity bit. Shadows pool around his eyes; rendered flat with the boredom that can only come from banal acts of murder. It was almost as if it wasn't him, and there weren't beings. It was like nothing was anything anymore, just as long as he centered the target and pulled the trigger.

"He seems to be taking to this quite well," Maya says, keeping an eye on his ever-rising score counter.

"A little too well," Misato replies; the beginnings of motherly worry stirring in her ample bosom. "I need a pilot, not a robot. Well, another robot."

"They're artificial humanoid cyborgs," Ritsuko corrects, watching his slipping reaction times. "Third, you're slowing down. Do we need to stop the test?"

"We don't stop until everything is dead," Shinji says flatly. "I keep centering the target, and pulling the switch."

The Operations Director looks to the known head of Project E and her lackey, who look back apologetically. "Shut it down," Ritsuko says to Maya conspiratorially. She executes a quick task kill and the simulation stops; disembodied Eva head slumping in feigned sleep.

Shinji pulls at the trigger a few more times, seemingly unaware that there's nothing left to shoot. He blinks and shakes his head, returns to the land of the sane. "I just had the weirdest dream where Ayanami became a bunch of zombies and I was a chubby mangaka fighting them off." He blushes and coils in demurely. "Could, uh, one of you shake your tits for me? The dream won't feel complete if you don't."

Misato rolls down her jaunty military jacket and lifts up her shirt like a college girl at Mardi Gras. Ritsuko, Maya, and Shinji stare at her, mouths agape, each for totally different reasons. Her jovial jiggling slowly fades and she shoves her shirt down with a pout.

"Hey, it's not like NERV didn't hire me to watch my tits jiggle," she says, crossing her arms in a huff. "Besides, don't act like you haven't seen them before, Ritsu." Maya abruptly excuses herself from the premises, clutching her nose. The college comrades pay her no mind; too busy reminiscing about the past. Shinji nods knowingly at her exit; he's been there before.

We all have urges, after all.

* * *

~!

* * *

"No Grace, we can't use Alpha to get milkshakes," Miss Mao says with exasperation, pulling her hat over her eyes. The pink haired girl opens her mouth, starts to speak. "We can't use Beta either." She deflates like a fleshy balloon.

"But why not?" she moans, ahoge sagging in disappointment. "I mean, you know Alpha and Beta get bored sitting around in the hangar like statues and we get bored just watching Alpha and Beta get bored so if we all went out for frosty chocolate milkshakes nobody would be bored and we'd have milkshakes!" Grace takes a deep breath, since she almost passed out from that last outburst. "And isn't that what NERV-Mass is all about?"

A calloused, grease and LCL stained hand ruffles Grace's hair playfully; she giggles as the ahoge wraps around a finger. "She's got a point, you know," Simon Kazahara, the owner of the offending hand says, trying to work it free from Grace's grip. "We don't fight Angels, so we might as well go for milkshakes with all the good we do." He grabs a chair and sits in it; arms perched on the back rest.

"Constant vigilance is the most important part of life in wartime," Miss Mao says sharply, the click of her heels reverberating down empty halls. "And as long as the Angels come, we are at war. So there will be no milkshakes." A grate clatters behind her, as Patricia unfurls herself upside down above Mao's shoulder.

"We could just go without Alpha and Beta," she says, holding a finger out as a point of reference. Grace squees at her sister's impeccable logic.

"That's assuming you don't dissolve on the surface," Miss Mao responds, proper and metered, not bothering to turn around.

"If that happened, then that means you haven't been doing your job. And you know that's not awesome."

"How do you know I didn't put that in specifically to prevent you from the unauthorized acquisition of milkshakes?"

"Because you're not omniscient," Patricia says, "And you're not that mean."

Miss Mao clicks her tongue, "Oh really? Well I'll have you know that if you go for any unauthorized milkshakes, I have the authority to prevent that with extreme prejudice."

Patricia grins a sharklike grin, "If that's the case, I'll have you know that I can bite through Kevlar, my AT-Field can stop a shotgun blast at point-blank range, and I've been taking a Saikyo-Ryu video correspondence course." She drops out of the air duct and lands in a perfect ten point stance; red veins pulsing with excitement within her jet black plugsuit. "And Grace is well,"

"I can break walnuts with my bare hands!" she says on cue, splaying out. "Also bones. And solid steel doors. " She puts a hand on her chin, caught in deep thought. "And solid steel bones. And walnuts with steel shells and bones inside that taste like-"

"You've made your point," all three say in unison; Simon shakes her to get her back on track. Patricia ahems; swings over to Grace in a display of sisterly unity.

"What I'm trying to say is, if we want milkshakes," both sisters flash knowing smiles, "Then we're gonna get milkshakes."

"Very well then," Mao says, coolly. "Then I'll have to order you not to get milkshakes." The girls snap to attention, eyes pleading. Grace whimpers softly. "At ease, girls," she says, holding her hands out, "I wouldn't do that." They relax, suddenly relieved. "We can get milkshakes, if you really want."

"Huzzah!"

"Yayifications!"

"Do I get one too, Mao?"

"Of course, of course," she says; popping her hat into a rakish tilt. "As long as you have the money for it."

"Ah, so stingy," Simon teases; corralling the girls along arm in arm. "My blood, sweat, and dashing good looks should be enough payment for you."

They head off into the service elevator; the doors closing just as the Angel detection alarm sounds. The service elevators are quite soundproof, as long as the internal alarms aren't triggered. The viewscreens display that a betentacled cicada with a halo of light floats past the Pearl Harbor relay station, but that's not important. What's important is that Patricia and Grace got their chocolate milkshakes.

They were frosty, and they were delicious.


	4. Perhaps Fap Fodder Is a Bit Much, But

**Episode 4 **

**

* * *

**

**Side A: Perhaps "Fap Fodder" Is A Bit Strong, But...**

* * *

It stands to reason that children are our future. Because they seem to be the only ones who can use 'that'.

What 'that' is depends on what is needed and for how little you fear jail time. In the case of the Evangelion units, 'that' is 'crippling emotional issues', but most everyone at NERV has something that would drive a psychiatrist into fits of rapturous glee. Even the lowliest techies are a mass of fursuit-wearing, woman beating, heavy drinking, self-loathing messes. There are no therapists in NERV because no therapists can survive NERV; much like no human can survive skinny-dipping into a star. The closest thing they have to a sane, rational human being's master plan involved fitting the sum total of humanity into a giant robot by turning them into synthetic orange juice.

"That was a good plan and you know it, Fuyutsuki," Yui Ikari huffs, teasing out strands of blue hair. Fuyutsuki walks beside her, fresh off of a series of interaction exercises with decanted spares of Ayanami.

One never knows when she may push her luck too far, and she had many times before. To save time and effort reteaching the girl basic human interaction every time she got a new body, Doctor Akagi and Fuyutsuki decant several bodies and feed them the necessary information. This proved to be more than a pointless exercise once retrieving Yui became a possibility; instead of a childlike semi-retard, the scattered bits of the old girl's soul latched on to a solid, if somewhat warped baseline personality.

Yui and the other bodies having a compulsive urge to call Commander Ikari "Big Daddy Gendo" may or may not be an example of said warping.

"Plans designed at three in the morning while tripping on LSD are not normally considered good after the trip is over," Fuyutsuki says bluntly, rubbing absentmindedly at a welt on his neck. One of the surrogates was far too affectionate for his tastes; she also seemed to be developing a stronger musculature than the rest. This made her hug first, ask questions later nature rather taxing.

"It came to me on the trip, but it still made sense afterward," Yui replies, hands in her labcoat's pockets. "Think about it, the world got destroyed in Second Impact. We're living in a blasted hellscape; the seas are red and the lands are scarred. Mother Earth got ravaged." They round a corner into the EVA hangar, where assorted techs make last minute repairs. "So why not start over somewhere else? We could've lived as a testament to humanity!"

"A life as molecules of liquid is not a life worth living, I'm afraid," says Fuyutsuki, hailing over one of the techs; a small, mousy twenty year old who looks about 14. He sniffs and rubs at his nose; wrinkling up the bandage across the bridge.

"Whaddya want, pops?" the tech says with a slouch, only two seconds out and already annoyed by this lull in action.

"How far along are you on the build timetables?"

The tech snorts, as if offended. "You're kidding, right? We've had Unit 01 fixed up for a few days now and Unit 02's running better than the day she was made."

"Born," Yui coughs.

"And Unit 00?" Fuyutsuki asks, noticing the empty launch space between the purple and red behemoths.

He clicks his tongue. "That. Damn thing still won't boot up on us. We've checked and re-checked the slave OSes, done a full neural scan and flush, we even tried restarting the damn things. It just refuses to work." The tech shrugs, his workman's jumper a size too large for him. "The root OS is weird too, keeps dumping junk data on us, something about an SOS and tomatoes. It tried to kill Suzumiya too."

A bland looking male tech cringes at the mention of his name, reflexively puts his hands over his head.

"...So we had to put it back in the test room, put out an Alighieri protocol on it, and put it back to sleep. Maybe if you put the First back in it."

"That's up to the Commander," Fuyutsuki says, eyes darting between Yui and Unit 01. She stares up at her former home like a daughter dwarfed by her father.

"We'll take care of that later," she says, distracted. "It's not like He Who Comes Fifth is a threat or anything. Shin-chan and his little girlfriend can take care of it."

As if to spite her, warning bells blare throughout NERV headquarters. "All hands, to Level One combat positions. Pattern Blue detected. Repeat. Pattern Blue detected."

"Huh," Yui gasps, snapped out of her reverie. "Guess he heard me."

* * *

~!

* * *

The figure of Shamshel cuts across the noontide sky, a vision of angelic perfection, if angelic perfection was decided by cockroaches. Or marital aid enthusiasts. Dummy buildings sink and unfurl on a wave of impending mutilation as artillery pieces swivel to bear; a mutual exercise in military-technoarcane penis envy. Tanks roll out the red carpet on gray tarmac for the space invader, as VTOLs buzz in the air like angry bees.

In one of those VTOLs, a frail slip of a girl with stringy black hair and Coke bottle glasses fidgets in her seat, gloved fingers twitching, playing invisible piano keys. A five-point pentacle medal catches the light, adding flair to her drab JSSDF uniform. She looks out at the impending skirmish from under her bangs, butterflies floating in her stomach. The VTOL's radio flickers and hisses, catches snippets of fear, annoyance, and off-key whistling. The frail girl gulps and steels herself, pushes her opening night jitters as far down as she possibly can.

"Atom, this is Cupid," the girl says with practiced seriousness. "I-I'm in position and the puppets are on stage."

In a similar VTOL, callsign Cupid's voice wavers through the speaker system, several dozen decibels softer than the surround sound murder rock blaring through Atom's speakers. If not for her headbanging displacing headphones as well as boyishly cut auburn hair, she may have missed the call completely. The girl taps her palm and holds it up to her mouth.

"Roger that Cupid," she rasps, "Atom here locked, stocked and weapons hot." The music continues to blare, screeching over into Cupid's VTOL.

"Owwww," Cupid squeals, "Turn that off!"

"Whoops," Atom says over the line as she smacks herself in the abdomen. The music skips and hitches, before going dormant.

"Thank you," Cupid sighs.

"Yeah, yeah," Atom says, blasé. "I know how sensitive you are to good music."

"I-it messes with my synchronization," Cupid mumbles, a few unmanned drones righting wobbly flight paths into a tight formation around her VTOL. Her chest begins to glow, casting a muted ruby light over her heart and through her clothes. "You know I need the utmost c-concentration."

"Whatever," Atom huffs, rapping a report on her turret's handles. "We stickin' to the plan?"

Cupid grunts affirmatively, "We're going to hit him hard and fast,"

Atom flashes a toothy grin, already spooling up her adrenaline. "And not give those NERV bastards a chance to get any more smug." She looks out the window, training a finger gun on the insectile Angel. "Don't choke like in the sims."

"A-and don't cause too much collateral damage," Cupid says shyly, smiling to herself. "It comes out of our paychecks. We lose too much, the JSSDF'll own us."

Atom barks out a laugh, which draws another wince from Cupid. "You say it like they don't already do, with the shit they've got us on." The whisper of a sigh begrudgingly confirms her statement.

"It's nice to pretend we have a choice, though," Cupid says, sinking in her seat. The skeleton crew of her VTOL look back to her; turn away when they notice the glowing and her redshifted eyes.

"The illusion of choice is good enough, huh?" Atom asks, targeting data and diagnostic information creeping into her peripheral vision. The focus on her vision gives her pause; makes her cock an eyebrow with realization. "Hey, that thing look like a dildo to you?"

* * *

~!

* * *

The best part about being a fortress city is that the bars are well stocked, always open, and able to withstand several N2 blasts. They also make good vantage points for watching godlike titans wreck up the place. Nothing quite makes eldritch abominations make sense like the soothing buzz of alcohol and dim lights.

It is here we find one Shiro Tokita: chief executive of the JA Project and on-again, off-again alcoholic, doing two of the only things that bring him joy in this world: drinking...

"Hey baby, wanna play Math?" he says to the nearest female patron attractive enough to be the target of amorous advances; an absolutely run-of-the-mill girl nursing a Martini.

"What?"

"It's where we add a bed, subtract our clothes, I divide your legs and then we multiply."

...and casual chauvinism. Alcohol has a great many pleasant uses; acting as an eyewash is not one of them, as Tokita swiftly learns. He clutches his face and shrieks like a little girl; the apple of his eye storming away in a huff. He wipes the liquor off his face; what he says when his eyes regain focus makes him wish he were still blinded.

"Oh look, it's Jaymuzu Bondo," he spits, turning away from the ever smirking face of Ryoji Kaji. He turns away because if he had to look at that smug bastard for too long, words wouldn't be the only thing he'd spit.

"Always saw myself as more of an 'Our Man Flint' sort of fellow, but the sentiment is appreciated," he says airily, taking a seat next to him at the bar. "I hope your projects are going better than your love life."

Tokita lets out a humorless laugh, takes a slug of his nameless mixed drink. "Things are going as planned, no thanks to you."

Kaji raises his palms out in a defensive manner. "I'm cooking up something special for you; for all of you."

"It better be," Tokita retorts, "Do you realize how much money is up for grabs with this project? We can [i]not[/i] fuck this up and for us to not fuck this up, [i]you[/i] can't be fucking around."

"I can assure you, fucking is the last thing on my mind," Kaji chuckles. The bartender slides Kaji a Martini; stirred, not shaken. He stirs his drink without thinking, the roar of military might drawing his eyes upwards and outwards.

"Are you sure about sending the girls out on this mission?"

Tokita drains his drink and sets it down, the clank voicing annoyance in his stead. "Look, I know your heart bleeds for anything with a vagina, but we know what we're doing here." His voice drops into a coarse whisper. "Kirishima and Yamagishi are our best men-"

"Women."

"Our best men given the parameters. If they succeed here, then we look fucking fabulous rolling into the unveiling." He flips open a sleek portable device, the contents making a smirk creep onto his face. " It's not like the only thing we're aiming to sell here is a giant robot."

* * *

**Side B: Technodildo**

**

* * *

**

Another day, another massive metropolitan cataclysm.

Between the nuclear threats, psychic experiments gone rogue, mutated rampaging lizards with hearts of gold, and Rei Ayanami's comeback tour, the citizens of New Municipal City Neo Tokyo-3 were used to tucking their tails between their legs and running underground. The percussion of explosions and ratatat of heavy ordinance acted as marching drums for the people of the beleaguered burgh. Soothing newscaster voices say stock nothings to stock footage on the shelter screens as the herd of humanity moves in.

"Aw man, why won't they let us see the fight?" Kensuke grumbles. "It's not like we're unused to alien warfare."

"Geez, Kensuke, you need to get laid," Touji sighs, having heard this argument umpteen times before. "You wouldn't be so eager to die if you got to die the little death once in a while, ya know?"

"When did you become the sexpert," Kensuke bites back. "It's not like you've seeing anybody other than Palms-sama lately."

"Don't shoot the messenger," he replies, catching Hikari wave him over in the corner of his eye. "Besides, what'd be the point of going out there without any sort of protection?"

"Going where, Suzuhara?" she says, innocently. He recoils, caught off guard by the speed at which she closed. "It wouldn't be to do anything stupid, would it?"

He laughs her off. "Of course not! We," he says glaring at Kensuke as if he revived the Devil Gundam with the help of Kyoji, "Were just, uh, going to the bathroom!" Kensuke looks at him funny, but an elbow to the ribs gets him to play along.

Hikari perks up, puts a thoughtful finger on her lips. "Oh, so you were going to the bathroom, but needed protection to do so? I never expected you two to be like that." She flashes a guilefully guileless smile. "Oh, go ahead, go ahead."

"It's not like that at all!" Touji screams, flailing back with such force his erstwhile companion has to duck so he doesn't get knocked to the floor. "Me and Kensuke ain't no punks!"

"Yeah!" Kensuke stutters in assent.

Hikari moans in disappointment, "Too bad, that would've been interesting." She leans in close, drops her voice to a husky whisper. "So where exactly are you going, then?"

"Don't give in to the poon," Kensuke hisses in his ear. "Remember man, bros before-" his male slogan is cut off by a swift double kick to the shin. He hobbles back, wincing in pain. "Judas!"

"If Aida's so adamant about it, it must have something really stupid and technowanky," Hikari posits. She steps back, set in the pout of the determined ingenue. "...I want in."

Kensuke stamps his foot in indignation. "Absolutely not! You're just going to narc on us!"

"What do you mean 'we', white man?"

"What do you mean, 'what do you mean'?" Kensuke blurts, near to tears. "This is a man's romance, we're dealing with here! Don't you want to see the clash of titans once before you die?"

"Saw it already," Touji says, picking out his ears, "Terrible movie."

"A man's romance, you say?" Hikari says, interested, "I think Aida's trying to tell you something." She turns to look at one of the television screens, so as to hide her growing blush. "It's a shame you're so dense, Suzuhara."

"An' what's that supposed to mean, Class Rep?"

"It means let's go already," Kensuke says, draping his arm around Touji, camera in hand. His glasses glint white and his voice goes cold. "I'm going out whether you come with me or not man, and that's final." The air around him gets heavy, thick with tension..

"...Alright, alright, geez," he shrugs, working out his shoulder. "I'll go. Don't want you haunting me if you get your fool ass killed."

Kensuke turns practically incandescent with glee. "Alright! I knew you wouldn't let me down!"

"And I'll go with you," Hikari says with a shrug, "It's the Class Rep's duty to watch over her students."

"What part of 'no' are you having trouble understanding, Class Rep?" Kensuke snarks.

"The part where I tell the nice guards with their shiny new restraints about what you're going to do," Hikari says sweetly. He sweats and shoves his glasses back onto his face, glares at her, then sags, defeated.

"Alright, you can come with," he mutters.

"Wonderful. Now let's go to the bathroom."

* * *

~!

* * *

As is traditional for giant monster attacks, the JSSDF threw pretty much everything they had at Shamshel: bullets whizzed, mortar shells flew, and missiles danced in an Itano Circus. Callsign Atom, skull-heart headphones firmly affixed to her head, sprayed death like a firehose in time to pumping double bass. The VTOL crew flew circles around the currently fifth Angel; hoping that not beauty would kill this beast, but a sixteen year old with a swivel mounted chaingun. Their hopes seemed to be unfounded, as shot after shot struck air like bulletproof glass.

"Cupid, we're not getting anywhere here," Atom growls over her personal communicator. "Where's that saturation fire?"

"I'm t-t-trying!" Cupid chokes, a thin trickle of blood coming from her nose. She closes her eyes, red irises getting scribbled over with black. "If I go too far, I'll, I'll overflow."

With a sweep of her hand, a wing of VTOLS swing over Shamshel's head, peppering it with small arms fire. It reacts to this like one would react to an unexpected spray of water from on high; it swats in its general direction. Unlike you or I, it has monomolecular whip-tentacles for hands; so when it swipes, things tend to get split in half. A VTOL goes down and Cupid pulls back a hand, as if she touched something hot. She suckles on the hurt hand and thrusts out her other one, sending the slaved VTOLs into a dispersal formation around the Angel.

"That really hurt," she whimpers.

"Tch, lightweight," Atom growls as her vehicle takes a steep bank; with a roar she unloads a scything burst down the length of the offending tentacle. "This may be Japan but we don't play like that!" A hit or two rings true, causing splashes of very red blood to fly from what looked like a beam of light. Ignoring the scientific strangeness, Atom redoubles her efforts, emboldened by drawing first blood.

"Good shot Atom," Cupid says shakily, "Its tentacles are unprotected by the Field, so we just need to draw them out more."

"No shit!" she barks, firing more controlled bursts at the beast's appendages. It seems to have sensed this, as the formerly docile Angel goes onto the offensive; tentacles moving like a blur. Things slow down behind Atom's eyes, as the implants go into high-speed shutter mode. Even with the ratcheted up settings, hitting a small moving target with a chaingun is akin to trying to hit a single blade of grass with a bullet train.

"Stand still you asshole," Atom says, gritting her teeth, one eye closed for better aim and power efficiency. She scores a few more glancing blows, but not enough to slow the monster down. "Shit! I'm getting nowhere here! We've got to take out the AT-Field!"

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it," Cupid says, blood coming from both nostrils. Her chest glows an angry red as the remaining slave VTOLs snap to attention. "But I don't have anything strong enough to punch through that Field."

"Can't you just make it go away or something?"

"I could, but I'd h-have to strip naked and be right on top of it," she says, biting her lip. "And it'd probably kill me. And it'd just be a man-sized hole, if that." She sighs, her ride shaking violently as it nearly misses getting cleaved in twain.

"That's no excuse, Cupid," Atom says sternly, cursing at the click of an empty spooling barrel. "You should be happy to throw your life away for two things: what are they?"

"T-the mission,"

"The mission, and?" Atom asks, egging on her crew to get close to Cupid's VTOL.

"And...and..." Cupid pushes her fingers together, which sends two dummy ships to fiery ends against the hide of Shamshel.

"And being awesome!" Atom cries, pitching herself out one aircraft and into Cupid's. "Now shove over, we've got killin' to do." With a full clip and a belly full of fire, Callsign Atom drills fresh ammunition into the belly of the beast. The vibration and her roars of challenge send Cupid off balance, makes her lose control of a VTOL for just long enough to crash into Shamshel's Field and break through.

"You saw that, right Cupid?" Atom shouts over the din of gunfire.

Cupid nods, brushing brackish orange blood from her nose. "Yeah. But I only have one more dummy, and I'm feeling kind of Tangy."

"Well we'll just have to make this one count, eh Yumi?" Atom says, baring teeth.

"You know I don't like that nickname, Kirishima," Cupid pouts.

"Fine then, _Mayumi_," Atom nee Mana Kirishima teases.

Mayumi Yamagishi, Callsign Cupid, gives a quivering little smile back. "Tha-that'll do."

"Alright then, let's blow this fucker away!" Kirishima whoops, smacking a fist against her palm. Mayumi grunts affirmative, red eyes blazing, chest glowing like a neon sign. With twin roars of fury the girls launch forward; the final slave VTOL detonating against Shamshel's AT-Field as a near full clip of chaingun ammo is emptied into its fleshy underbelly. It warbles in pain and lashes out; dumb and angry, before collapsing against a building.

"Heh, that wasn't so bad at all," Mana laughs as she flips the horizon the bird. "Suck it dildo-face and suck it NERV!" She laughs some more and flips her headphones back on; electric guitars acting as victorious trumpets. "Alright boys, take us home."

Mayumi looks out the window, panics, and tugs on Mana's sleeve. "Uh, A-Atom?"

"What?"

"Remember that time we played Uncle and you kinda t-tore off my arm but it grew back?"

Mana snorts, "Yeah, that was fucking metal."

Mayumi directs her to the window, where what once were bloody gashes have become bubbling growths of rapidly healing flesh. "Well, the Angel can do that too, b-but _super hard_."

"Oh," she says flatly, face falling. "Well, fuck."

As is traditional for giant monster attacks, the JSSDF's first wave is ultimately futile. Don't be sad, it happens to lots of military-industrial constructs.

* * *

~!

* * *

"Well, that went about as well as you'd expect," Misato says, watching the last ditch attack and subsequent hasty retreat of the JSSDF's hyper new stars on NERV's main monitor. She sighs and pulls up an empty chair besides Ritsuko and Maya. "So, any words of wisdom for our erstwhile competitors?"

"It's not like they can hear me, but," Ritsuko says, fingers flying over her computer's keyboard. "I'd say, leave the giant monster killing to the giant monsters."

Misato leans over her chair, mildly confused. "You mean, giant robots?"

"What did I say?"

"Giant monsters."

"Ah. My mistake," Ritsuko says, not taking her eyes off of the screen. Misato gives her a strange look, but shakes it off to put her game face on. Split screen shots of the Entry Plugs display on the main screen; Children numbers two and three set up in plug suit finery.

"You two feeling alright in there?" Misato asks.

"Their biorythmic readouts are green, Operations Director," Maya adds, helpfully.

"That's not what I meant," Misato snaps, drawing a mousy eep from Ritsuko's number two. "So, the two people in the giant walking death machines, how are you feeling?"

"Like I'm in somebody's anti-depressant nightmare," Shinji mutters as the LCL ionizes clear, nose deep in "So You Bought an Abomination: A Guide to your First Evangelion".

"Always with the complaints, Third," says Asuka, rolling her eyes, "Can't you go three seconds without sucking with the sum total of your being?"

"I don't know Asuka," Shinji says calmly, cycling back and forth through the basic control sections. "Can you say something nice to me without any sort of backhanded barb?"

"Have your lover's spat later Children," Misato says testily, teeth grinding. "Status report."

Shinji gulps and bows his head, "Right. Nothing's screaming at me and there aren't any flashing red lights, so I think everything's okay."

"Good enough. Asuka?"

"Controls are well-oiled, LCL ionization is stable, and Unit 02's biometrics are a-OK," she says, running her fingers along the contours of the butterfly controls. "So at least one of us is ready to rock."

"Excellent," says Misato, rapping her fist atop her palm. "Now, here's the gameplan. Unit 01 will deploy from Gate 14, which'll put it right behind the Angel's current position. There, you will find an armory with a Pallet Rifle and a minigun. Unit 02 will launch from Gate 6 shortly thereafter; the Sonic Javelin and a Pallet Rifle are deployed in the adjacent armory. From there, you two will flank the Angel, take aim for it's glowing red weak point, and crush it between your mighty pincers!"

"Hey, how come the Third gets to launch first?"

"Because he's going to act as a diversion."

"Wunderbar," Asuka says with a smirk, "Probably the only thing he'll be good at." Shinji just shrugs and lays back in his seat.

"Sound simple enough, right?" Misato says cheerily, "Good. Oh, and Asuka, the Smash Hawk is installed in your left pauldron instead of an extra Prog Knife."

"This just keeps getting better and better, I can almost get over the fact my first Tokyo gig is a duet with Kira Yamato over here." She tsks and pouts at Shinji, "I'd rather work with Puru; at least she'd make a good meat shield."

"Ehehe, yeah, that." Misato looks over to Ritsuko for otaku to Japanese translation, "Ritzy, what does that mean?" she whispers to her.

"What are you looking at me for?" Ritsuko says dryly, "Not all mecha lab technicians are mecha junkies as well."

"Um, Major," Makoto Hyuga pipes in, "She basically called the Third Child a bitch. And said the First was a-"

"Purely fanservice based entity for pedophiles," Ritsuko interjects, in order to save some semblance of military security.

Misato points an accusatory finger, "I knew it! That's why they 'leaked' those photos of Rei in the prototype plug suit designs!" It takes a monumental effort of will to keep Ritsuko from slamming her head into the desk.

"Just begin the damn operation, Misato."

Misato snaps to, as if remembering her point in the story. "Oh, right. Launch Evangelions 01 and 02! Begin the operation!"

* * *

~!

* * *

"Oh man, isn't this awesome?" Kensuke says as he clears the crest of his vantage point, the camera basically glued onto his face with exuberance.

"I guess," Touji mumbles, trying to keep his footing on the rough ground. He pokes his head up just in time to cast it aside at the launch of Unit 01.

"I just hope that Shinji doesn't mess this up," Kensuke says, casting a sideways glance while still somehow keeping transfixed on the ensuing battle. "It'd be a shame if we all died because of a certain someone crushing his self-esteem."

Touji palms face and groans, suddenly reminded of his revenge's breakdown. "Aw man, I keep telling you that stuff puts hairs on your chest."

"So when Asuka made you humble?"

"...Shut up."

"Hey guys," Hikari asks, pointing at the red and black mecha launching, "I thought we only had one working mecha." The two boys clamber over her to take a gander at the new challenger.

"Holyshitthat'scool," Kensuke gawks, glasses fogging up with delight.

"I'd like to meet the pilot of that thing," Touji says reverentially, "That's a real man's machine."

* * *

~!

* * *

The first thing Shamshel notices is a set of two souls burning almost as bright as its own; much greater than the flickering candle in the Lilim's toys. The second thing it notices is yet more heavy ordinance ringing against it. The third thing it notices is that the AT-Field doesn't seem to be working as well as it should.

"Choke on my tungsten bukkake, dickface!" Shinji yells, having caught a bad case of buck fever with a minigun that wouldn't be out of place with a Russian girl's name. Smoke and dust blossom over the Angel; obscuring its form in no time flat. Spent shells the size of SUVs clatter onto the ground, gouging concrete and crushing cars.

"The hell are you doing, idiot?" Asuka yells, taking cover behind the Sonic Javelin's armory. "I can't see shit!"

The idiot in question roars and laughs over his teammate's complaints, answering her grievances with more bullets. The gun runs dead; the bark of ammunition turning into the whine of an empty clip. He pants like a beast, eyes wild with excitement, the fading adrenaline softening his features.

"I...I did it!"

A double shot of electrified tentacles says otherwise and sends him on the backswing; the smoke making targeting center mass near impossible.

"Yeah, stupid," Asuka says, peeling Unit 02 out from it's cover position. "You really fucking did it this time." It breaks into a sprint and tackles Shamshel through the smoke. "This is how you engage with the enem-WAAAAAH!" Her momentum pushes Shamshel into Unit 01, which knocks it down and sends 02 up and over the Angel.

Thinking quickly, but not quickly enough, Shinji deploys a Prog Knife and stabs; the blade bouncing off an AT-Field at full force. He tries a few more times, because if at first you don't succeed, that means do it in the exact same manner. The techo-organo-dildo moves onwards, floating towards the prone Unit 02 with a halo made of AT-fuckery.

"That could've gone better," says Asuka, pulling Unit 02 into a kip-up. "Let's dance, bugbrain!" She deploys the Smash Hawk and charges forward; one hand neutralizing while the other winds up a sweeping slash. "Eva Tomahawk!" It scores a glancing blow, and gets a one two tentacle in response.

"I've got you, Asuka!" Shinji cries out over the commlink, spraying tight, controlled bursts from the Pallet Rifle. He centers the target, pulls the trigger, and doesn't take note of the strafing maneuver Shamshel performs. The bullets ricochet off of Unit 02's armor; the momentary confusion dropping her AT-Field.

"Watch where you're shooting!" she shouts, whipping her Smash Hawk at the bogey. "Tomahawk Boomerang!"

It gets caught by a tentacle and redirected right at Unit 02's neck. She ducks it and goes into another charge, aiming for a rising uppercut. On the other end, Unit 01 charges in with more Pallet Rifle fire, attempting to provide proper suppressive fire. He doesn't hit Asuka this time; it's Asuka who hits him with a gentlemanly Dash Upper as Shamshel propels itself upwards like a AT-Field powered rocket. The force of the blow sends Unit 01 flying into an outlying mountain, severing its connection with the Umbilical Cable. The Angel lazily floats after it in hot pursuit.

And Kensuke gets it all on tape, recording what may serve to be the last few moments of his life.

* * *

~!

* * *

"GOD-!" Shinji finishes his prayer to whatever deity was listening moments before he crashes into the mountain.

"MY-!" Kensuke cries as he almost dashes his prized camera against the rocks below, oblivious to his possible demise.

"Ohhh crap..." Asuka says, pitching Unit 02 forward to retrieve the target she inadvertently created.

* * *

~!

* * *

"Civilian ID confirmed," Maya says, as three dossiers flash on the main screen. "Suzuhara, Touji. Aida, Kensuke. Horaki, Hikari. All three students of Class 2-A, sempai."

Oh, son of a bitch!" Misato tears the headpiece off her ear, for easier screaming. "Shinji, Asuka, retrieve the civilians!"

"The what?" Shinji stammers, eyes darting around the cockpit. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Touji, Kensuke, and Hikari clutching each other and trembling like leaves in the wind. A lance of cold shock runs through him; without thought he grabs onto Shamshel's tentacles. The plasma burns through the hand's armor plating, makes Unit 01's skin sizzle like cheap steak.

"I protest the allowing of unauthorized civilians into the entry plug," Ritsuko says, actually turning to face Misato. "The addition of so much background noise will wreak havoc on Unit 01's ability to sync."

Misato stands firm. "Well I'm authorizing it."

"Are you trying to pull rank on me, _Major_?"

"This is my element, Ritsuko; unless overridden by the Commander, I'm in control here." They stare at each other for a tense moment, grunts of exertion and pain outside adding urgency to the proceedings.

"External power, three minutes remaining," says Shigeru Aoba, forcing a cross of the Rubicon. Misato pleads silently, to which Ritsuko gives a defeated nod.

"Shinji, Asuka, open hatches. Switch over to auto mode."

"What are we, a taxi service?"

Misato's voice goes hard. "That's an order, Second Child." She backs down, recoiling slightly at a tone of voice she hadn't heard for years. The "Asuka's been a bad girl" voice. The "Asuka's disappointed somebody" voice.

Asuka didn't like that voice, not one bit.

"Alright, alright," she says, missing her earlier bite, "Fine." The Entry Plugs deploy in tandem, as wire stepladders descend from a spool at the tip. She leans out the side of the plug, "But I'm not picking up the nerd or the meathead."

Hikari points to herself, 'I'm neither a nerd or a meathead, so I guess she means me."

Touji blanches like he's seen a ghost. "Y-y-you're the pilot of the red mecha?"

"Of course," Asuka says, keeping the stepladder straight for Hikari to climb on. "What are you, stupid?"

"It makes sense that someone like you would have a red mecha," Touji grumbles as Kensuke squees.

"I know, right? Such an elegant color suits her!"

Touji grabs Kensuke on the crown of the head and grinds. "What happened to bros before hos?"

The two amigos pile into Shinji's cockpit and the plug shunts back into Unit 01's neck. The LCL re-ionizes, drawing gasps and burbles from the civilians. They gum like fishes, cough and sputter as the machine soul compensates for their presence.

"This some kind of sick joke?"

"Gekiganger III lied to me!"

"Third Child, do you still have the connection?" Ritsuko asks, watching the sync numbers skip and fluctuate. He nods, face set in determination. To show this fact, he pulls Shamshel by the tentacles and boots it right in the chest; sends it skidding down the mountain end over end.

"Asuka, Shinji, are the civilians alright?" They respond affirmative, and Misato relaxes, a weight off her shoulders. She rights herself into a cocksure standstill strut. "Okay, let's try this from a different angle; both of you retreat to the nearest shelter, drop off the civs and reflank."

Asuka rolls her eyes, "Roger that. C'mon Third, we're doing your favorite thing."

There's no response. Unit 01 flexes disturbingly human hands.

She puffs up her cheeks and leans over her controls. "Stupid Shinji, we're blowing this joint."

Metered muttering, vaguely intelligible. It pops a Prog Knife and wields it.

She raps on the side of her screen with Shinji's feed on it. "Earth to Stupid Shinji! Hello?"

"Imustn'trunawayImustn'trunaway." Touji and Kensuke stare at him dumbly.

She rocks back, her annoyance turning into confusion and worry. "You okay, Shinji?"

"I MUSTN'T RUN AWAY!" Unit 01 dashes down the mountain towards the Angelic figure, both man and machine all but foaming at the mouth.

"Oh shit!" Unit 02, already halfway down the mountain and away from the fight, cuts a hard right and swings around to the back, Prog Knife already in hand.

Shinji's guttural screams provide in-fight music as his machine's power ticks down with frenzied speed. His vision is red, focused to laser points on the enemy. Nothing else exists, nothing else needs to exist, just the point of his blade and that shiny red bauble in its chest. Shamshel runs him through, stopping the advance in one fell swoop, and time stands still.

"Oh god..." Misato gapes.

"It must have been the extra parameters," Ritsuko shakes her head; she should have known the Third wasn't ready for this kind of work after the last test.

"Shinji, you IDIOT!" Asuka yells, pivoting to bring all the force she can to bear on the edge of her unit's Prog Knife. She lashes out with snake's speed to drive her boxcutter blade into the spine of Shamshel. It punches through the Field and strikes true, causing the Angel to spasm its appendages deeper through Unit 01.

The added shock serves to wake Shinji up; he looks over at the minute of power he has, then at the core just out of reach. He puts two and two together and grabs a fistful of tentacle; dragging more searing electric pain through his shared abdomen. With one last, desperate yelp, he thrusts the knife right into the center of Shamshel's core; both hands pushing with all the strength they both can muster. The pain is intense; he sees stars in his vision and almost passes out. The clock winds down, second by agonizing second; the mission hanging on by a thread.

The timer strikes zero.

The core splits in two.

The Third Child starts to sob.

The Fifth Angel goes silent, breathing its last locked in a deadly embrace.


End file.
